Taken
by TheSlytherinMarauders
Summary: <html><head></head>When Garcia is kidnapped and Morgan is on his own, he must find away to save her and deal with his feelings that are rapidly growing. Told from Morgan's POV. Rated T for later chapters. Please R AND R! Complete.</html>
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Nightmare

The sun was still setting over the trees when he walked toward their house. Calm chirps sounded around him as he stepped onto the cracked sidewalk. He thought he would be was nervous, like any man should be, as he drew closer to the picture perfect house; yet he felt calm and ready. As he eased himself behind the closest bush to the house, he reminded himself of the plan once again. It seemed fool proof; he'd gone over it hundreds of times. He had watched the family for two weeks prior and knew everything about them. Where they ate, what time they got home, the kids bed times, and even the favorite music of the oldest. It felt too easy.

When the final light went out in the parents room, Susan and Ryan Walters, he slipped toward the house. Using the key to their property he had copied three days ago, he gained access to the garage. He had been nervous they wouldn't leave the door unlocked before that night, but they did. He knew they would, everyone forgets sometimes; everyone makes mistakes. He silently walked up the carpeted stairs, past Lucy's room first, painted to match her birthstone, then past Aidan and Jasper's, stopping at the master bedroom's door. He heard their soft breaths and pictured their chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm; their hands enter twined. His steady hands rose, gently twisted the gold door knob and pushed.

He knew enough about the Walters to understand they didn't have any weapons in the bedrooms and that their freshly painted windows were always locked. He knew the kids didn't usually get up to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water or even run to their parents rooms because of nightmares. He knew he had as much time as he needed if they didn't hear him first. That was the only obstacle. He stalked toward the large bed and felt the familiar loathing rise in his throat. These people and their fancy houses and cookie-cutter families. He hated them and what they stood for; that is why they had to die. He took out his knife and walked toward the husband. He leaned down and whispered, "Your time has come."

Ryan Walters jerked upright, but before he could scream, the killer stabbed him in the chest. His eyes went wide, but the killer knew he couldn't move now. He smiled and walked to the wife's side, then jostled her awake. She screamed. He expected her to.

"Who are-," but he stabbed her before she finished her sentence. She wouldn't have had a chance to say a word if he hadn't wanted her to; but this was part of the plan. He heard footsteps and Lucy appeared in the room.

"Mom? Mom!"

"Lucy... Your mother is busy right now. How about I help you."

Lucy ran from the room to Jasper and Aidan's door. She pounded on it. They opened the door and Lucy scrambled desperately inside.

"Call the police!" she yelled to them. He smiled. The phone line was disconnected. He walked to the mother and sneered,

"Tell your children to come here, and I promise they will die quickly." She shook her head. He just shrugged, leaned over and stabbed her husband in the leg. He screamed. She shook her head again.

"You're killing your children. But, maybe they want to die."

"You sick, twisted -" the killer stabbed her till the life left her eyes. He saw the husband crying and had planned to kill him next, but decided the kids needed to see their father weak and broken. He ran to the boy's door and kicked it open. They screamed.

"Please! Please don't hurt us!"

They were huddled together in the far corner of the room, cheeks streaked with salt water. The walls were decorated with school projects and A plus papers. Family pictures and promises to be best friends forever with the families across the street.

"Never," he whispered soothingly. "I want to show you something."

Lucy leaned over after a moment and said, "Listen to him." Jasper stood up first, pulling Aidan. They followed him to the bedroom and shrieked when they saw their mother dead and their father crying with despair.

"Dad? Mom?" Aidan cried.

"Oh my God," Lucy mouthed.

They started to back away from him, but he pulled them in the room and produced a gun. The first to show fear was Jasper. The killer pulled the trigger and immediately felt release when he saw the fear on their faces and Jasper fall to the floor. He fired two more quick shots and watched with pleasure as the children crumpled to the floor. He smiled and stepped over them to the father. He took out a rope and tied the father to the bed and then stepped back toward the kids. He dipped his fingers in the blood that pooled on the ground and wrote delicately on the wall:

_Nightmare _

Gingerly, he glanced back at the father and before turning out the light said menacingly,

"You were warned."

...

The annoying noise of the crime scene cameras filled the air. Forensics swarmed the dead family now, only one day after the murder. We arrived at the house three hours after Hotch had told us about the killing. Before I knew it we had landed in Avalon, California.

"Was there a father?" I asked, already disgusted by what I saw: the mother had been stabbed and was laid sprawled on the bed; eyes open. The three kids were huddled on the carpet, holding hands. As if they had been with each other till the very end.

"At the hospital," said a man in a dark suit.

"Wait, he survived?" Prentiss asked.

"Yup. Stab wounds to the arms, legs... basically everywhere but the heart. Doesn't look good though," he said. "I'm Agent Greene from the FBI." He reached out to shake my hand. I took it and tried to smile.

"We found no fingerprints or DNA at the crime scene," a woman from forensics told us.

"He's organized; clean. The killer knew what he was doing," Rossi stated.

"Yeah, but I think this came from rage. Look: the parents were stabbed, but the kids were shot. Quick strikes to the heads. It was over fast. He didn't want to hurt them. They just got in the way."

"But the kills were calm and collected. He took his time, it wasn't over in a rush. How could he do that if it came from rage?" Prentiss asked, quizzical.

"Short bursts of fury. Coming at random times," Reid concluded. I agreed. This was angry and perfectly done.

...

The trees made long shadows on the Walter's drive way we made our way to the cars.

"Reid," Hotch said, "Start on victimology. Prentiss and Morgan go talk to the family-"

"Agent Hotchner! I just got off the phone with the hospital; the father survived."

My jaw dropped. Everyone stood silently and bewildered; except Hotch.

"Morgan and Prentiss, go see the father. I'll go talk to the family with Rossi. We meet back in two hours to go over the profile."

"Let's go." I called to Prentiss. She smiled and followed me to the black SUV. As we pulled out I thought of Garcia for the first time that day. Emily stared at me for the majority of the silent ride.

"You OK?"

I chuckled. "Sure." My phone rang. "Hey Baby Girl."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh. Str-"

"Don't say my name. Can I tell you something in confidence?"

"Of course."

"You were listed as Agent Penelope Garcia's emergency contact."

"Yes? What happened?" Prentiss was looking at me questioningly. "Is she hurt?"

"Well... She... She's missing."

...

I was vibrating. I was physically shaking in my seat. I heard Prentiss asking me something, but I couldn't answer.

"Morgan! Morgan what's wrong?" Strauss had told me to not tell anyone. To lie and say I was leaving because of a family emergency. "I'm fine," I told her.

"No, your shaking." Strauss had also said they'd found a substantial amount of blood at her apartment. "I'm fine. Really. Just... My cousin's had an accident."

"I didn't know you had a cousin." I didn't. I felt horrible lying.

"I have to go home." She nodded.

"I'll stay here and you take the car. Go home. I'll call Hotch."

"Thank you." I watched Emily as I pulled out of the hospital, fear cursing through me. I drove for the longest time telling myself to say it. Say it out loud, that it would make me feel better. I drove for ten minutes before I opened my dry lips and choked out, "Garcia's been kidnapped."

...

When I got back to Quantico, I immediately drove to Garcia's house. Maybe Strauss was wrong. She could just be lying to get me to come back and help her plot some way to get Hotch fired; it wasn't like she' never done that before. When I got there, I instinctively glanced at the faint blood smear on her front steps. Every time I came over, I could still feel the fear that lingered in the corners of her house. I jostled the door knob, but when it didn't budge I braced myself, then kicked open the door. Her apartment was filled with color and life; the dream of every teenager in the world. "Garcia! Garcia, are you here?" _Please. _I thought. _Please still be alive._ "GARCIA!" I ran past the couch I'd slept on countless times; past the TV I'd sit and watch movies in front of. "Garcia please!" Then I ran past the blood.

"No. No. NO! Strauss was lying she was-" The TV turning on caused me to spin around, weapon raised. I stood confused as it flickered to life.

"Hello Derek Morgan. Missing something?" My eyes widened and he smiled cruelly. My breathing then became uneven. I tried to get a good look at him; his face was hard to make out from the shadows that bounced of his cheeks. The only thing I could really see were his hands; covered in dried blood.

"Where is she?" Nothing moved except his smile which grew impressively bigger. "I said where is she you son of a bitch!" It was then that he moved to the side and I saw to my utmost horror, Garcia. She was hanging from the ceiling; her hands bound by chains above her head. Her feet chained to the floor below her. She had been beaten; long knife marks stretched from her elbows to her wrists and burns marks where still hot on her legs. Rage cursed through me and I screamed, "Let her go! Let her go and take me! Torture me!" I saw her scream in protest, but the gag in her mouth made she sure didn't make a sound.

"You satisfied now?" I wanted to murder him. If I was in the same room, I would. "I have some rules for you."

"Rules? RULES? You think this is a GAME?"

"Of course! You should be glad; that way, you may have a chance to win," he sneered and then turned to Garcia. "I'm going to let him talk to you, sweetie. Play nice..."

I was outraged. He had no right to call her that. He had no right to even... Garcia's scream took me out of my head.

"Derek..."

"Garcia. Are you OK?" She looked at me like I just asked her if she had two heads. "You don't have to answer that. What you need to do is tell me where you are."

"I... I don't know. Far away. We drove f- for hours."

"OK. Any distinguishing noises?"

"The t-tr-train comes every hour or so." That was good. It was along the tracks.

"Any little bit helps."

"Derek... There's something I-I gotta tell you."

"No. You can tell me when I save you." I smiled, remembering. She nodded. "You listen, you do everything he says. Don't make him mad. Don't-" The killer returned and shoved the gag in her mouth. She made a choking sound and then quieted.

"Are you ready for the rules?" I nodded and he continued, "This connection will be up every hour of the day. As long as you stick to my game, you will be able to see her every hour. She won't be able to hear or see you, but you will be able to see and hear her. The only thing you cannot do, is involve anyone in finding her. Not your team, family, friends or anyone. You and you alone. I will know if you break that constriction." I sighed, how could he? "I will give you a hint. It would be unfair of me to start a game without telling you something," he said. "Here is your hint:

_The light doesn't shine here;_

_Answers will lead the way._

_I can no longer move with ease_

_That's why she must stay._

"I will give you two more in the future. That is all." The screen went fuzzy for a moment and I started to panic, but it returned to normal after a couple seconds. I breathed calmly. Garcia's eyes were wide, searching the room. I was trying to find out what the riddle meant when I thought that what I needed now was my team. I needed Reid to solve the riddle, JJ to get outsiders help, Prentiss to talk to family and witnesses and keep Garcia calm. I needed Hotch to lead us and I needed Garcia to-. I had to stop. This wasn't helping. I got up and searched the apartment; every crevice of every room. The killer had to leave something.

...

He didn't. I had set up a place to sleep and cleaned up the blood. I kept a sample just in case. I sat down and started to work on the riddle. _The light doesn't shine here. _What did that mean? It can't always be night and there must be at least one way light could get in. _Answers will lead the way._ Of course they would. That was obvious. Why did he need to say it? _I can no longer move with ease._ Was he hurt or very old? He could have hurt himself when capturing her and that means she has to stay. I sighed a breathe of relief. That means he won't kill her because he can't get another victim. That at least helped me.

It was after twelve when the killer re-entered the room. I stiffened. He glanced at me and then at Garcia. I could see she was trying to be strong. She didn't want me to see her weak. It was then that I noticed the limp. Great. I had one line figured out.

"Hey there. Want to show Agent Morgan what you've been doing the last twenty-four hours?" She shook her head and he drew closer. It was then that she looked at me. She looked with such intensity that I became scared. She looked and then so slightly I almost missed it, she shook her head. She wanted me to turn away. But it was too late. The killer took out his knife and made a fine cut across her left cheek. She screamed. "NO! NO STOP!" He did the same to the other cheek and she started to cry. Tears streaked her bloodied clothes and she rattled in her chains. The un-sub reached out and took the gag from her mouth.

"Please... Please stop this," she pleaded with him.

"Then do what I want!"

"NO! I won't!" God, didn't I tell her to listen to him? What did he want?

"Tell me or I'll.. I'll..." he smiled then, bigger than before. Then he leaned down and whispered in her ear. Her eye became wide and she screamed with such force I almost fell off the couch. "What'll it be?"

"You can kill me a thousand times over; I'll never tell." He frowned then. But he shook it off.

"I'll be back in the morning.

...

I didn't know a person could feel such pain. But what I just experienced, you would think you ripped out my heart. Garcia was whimpering quietly. "Shhhh, Baby Girl it's OK. Shhhh... I will save you. I will." I didn't care that she couldn't hear me. I put my head in my hands. I needed help. I was in over my head. I decided to tell Hotch when he got back. I didn't think the killer would be able to tell and if he could, we would find him first.

Garcia was sleeping. I didn't know how she was doing it, but she was. It was about eight o'clock and the killer hadn't come back. So far I could tell he was a white male in his thirties. He was fit enough to capture women and hold them. Since he left for hours at a time he probably had a job that required him to be on the phone or online. A job he could work from home and keep an eye on the captives.

I was about to close my eyes when I saw it. A light spot shone on the floor, directly in front of Garcia. I stared at it until it disappeared; only after a few minutes. That was the only light I'd seen it that room! I'd assumed she was in the basement, but since the light came from the ceiling, there must have been a hole that the sun could shine through. My eyes widened as I realized what this meant: it wasn't a basement. It couldn't be. The room Garcia was in was a single cell; meaning the killer had to leave her to go to his house if he wanted to. She was totally isolated and totally alone.

**A/N: Hope you like it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show at all.**

Chapter 2

No Way Out

The first thing I heard when I awoke were footsteps. I bolted upright on the couch, my weapon drawn and ready. My eyes scanned the room, but could see nothing. I turned and then noticed the flicker of the TV set and everything came rushing back. My chest heaved with sadness. I forced myself to stare at the screen and realized it was probably the killers footsteps I had heard. My heart relaxed and I lowered myself to the couch once more. Glancing at the clock that read three in the morning, I told myself I should probably try to sleep a little more. Hotch should be back soon. I needed to tell him; Garcia couldn't hold out much longer and neither could I.

My head sank into the embroidered pillows. I tried not to think of Garcia now, but of her a week ago. I remembered she and I had had plans next week; I was taking her to a play that I had once seen as a kid. If only I'd known... Stop. I had to quit blaming myself. I shook the unwanted thoughts from my head and fell asleep thinking of Penelope's laugh. I didn't notice when a metal rod gained entrance to Garcia's home through the key hole or when Garcia started shaking in her chair and crying out from under her taped mouth. I didn't see any of that. But I reckon if I had, none of the following events would have ever happened.

...

"Are you sure it was a family emergency Prentiss?" Hotch asked as they boarded their plane to Quantico, Virginia.

"Yes, I'm sure," she answered smiling. JJ's cell rang.

"Hello? Yes... Are you sure?" Her eyes became large and she stuttered, "We'll be there right away."

"What is it?" Reid asked.

"Its... It's Morgan and Garcia."

"What about them?"

"I don't think Morgan had a family emergency..."

"But that what he said!" Prentiss exclaimed.

"What's happened JJ?" Hotch was practically begging.

"A UPS man went to Garcia's. He needed a package signed... The door was wide open and..." she trailed off.

"What JJ!"

"He saw a live feed of two captives; Morgan and Garcia have been taken."

...

My head hurt like hell. I groaned as I tried to turn onto my side, but stopped when I noticed my hands were bound. I started to panic, but a disgruntled noise from the corner of the small cell grabbed my attention. I twisted and saw Garcia; hanging from the ceiling. She was crying softly and her eyes were filled with regret. I moved to stand but when I couldn't, I skillfully retrieved the knife from inside my long sleeve. After ten minutes of trial and error, I had managing to cut myself free. I sprinted to Garcia and took the gag from her mouth. "Garcia... I'm so sorry."

"Stop apologizing and start hugging." I chuckled but complied. She was thinner and she smelled like death, but she was my girl.

"Now. How about getting out of those chains." she nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Yes please. Although... we aren't going anywhere and these chains were built to withstand an enormous amount of physical strain-"

"Hon, let's stop the jokes and get to escaping." Her smile vanished immediately.

"We can't."

"What on earth are you talking about? We can and we are." She shook her head.

"One, he's got eyes and ears on us now. Two, before he chained me, I kicked, bit, punched, and knocked myself against those bars in every way possible. Three..."

"What?"

"Derek... He's not who you think he is."

"Excuse me?"

"He... He's done worse things than this." I frowned, nothing was worse in my book. "He's Nightmare."

...

What she was telling me made me want to throw up. The man that held us hostage was the man that killed the family in California. He had shot the kids and brutally murdered the mother. He had killed a family with no remorse and he had us at his fingertips. I started to pace.

"Please! Just calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? NO! You are in serious danger!"

"I am not!" I whipped around. My nostrils flared.

"You're chained to the ceiling, you've been burned and cut, and he is practically starving you, yet you think you're not in any DANGER?" She looked at the floor. I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. "I'm sorry. But... You can't serious believe that-" I was cut off by the un-sub walking into the room. Garcia shrunk and tried to back away and I instinctively moved in front of her.

"Ahh. I see you're up." I didn't say anything. He walked over and pressed a button. Suddenly I felt pain such as I have never felt; electricity powered through me and I backed up. I was puzzled until I saw a metal bracelet around my wrist. He smiled and unlocked the door. He walked into the room and pressed the button again; pain shot through me. "Wonderful. Now my sweet, would you like to tell Derek our deal?"

She didn't move. Her eyes trained directly on his. He sighed.

"Fine. I will inform our friend. I want to trade Agent Hotchner's son's location for your freedom.

...

I was flabbergasted. What did he want with Hotch's son?

"That is my deal. Take it or leave it." I wouldn't take it. But...

"I'll give you my life for Garcia's."

"NO," Garcia screeched.

"Tsk tsk tsk. That won't do. We both know you are more valuable alive than dead. Take it or leave it."

"No deal." He just shrugged.

"Fine then." And faster than I'd seen anyone move, he had out a knife and was tracing Garcia's ring finger with blade.

"No please! Please stop!" I tried to move forward but his other hand jutted out and hit the button. Pain erupted through my body again, but I pressed on. He pressed and held the button once more and my teeth chattered from the pain. I screamed and heard Garcia whimper. Then everything went black.

...

I dreamed. I dreamed that Garcia and I had escaped. That there had been a flood and magically the doors unlocked for us. We had run away through the forest; hand in hand. We ran all the way to a highway and we got a ride from a man in a navy blue car. We joyfully hopped in the back seat. I turned to tell our driver where we needed to go, but stopped shot when his hood fell from his face and I screamed.

I awoke in a cold sweat. Garcia was lying next to me; unchained. I frowned, puzzled. I turned over. " How did you get unchained?" I asked. She didn't reply. At first I thought she was dead, but slowly her eyes blinked. "Garcia...?"

"He stayed in after you blacked out. Made me watch him cut you." I didn't understand until I saw the massive blood pool under me and felt the tears on my skin. "I told him I would rather him hurt me, but he only laughed." She was speaking in a monotone. Was she in shock? "I screamed until he quit. He's probably deaf by now." She laughed softly.

"Sweetie, I think you're-"

"No. I want to say it. It makes it feel fake." I shook my head.

"I already tried that. Trust me. It makes it worse."

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! Keep it up!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. **

Chapter 3

Hopeless

"What do you mean the BAU isn't assigned to the case?" Hotch asked.

"Look, I know you feel strongly about finding the members of your team, but you're too close to them. You might get in the way," Agent Greene said. He had flown in from California an hour earlier.

"I am in charge of this facility-" Hotch started.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do," Greene said curtly. "It's out of my hands."

...

I smell of eggs wafted through the room. My eyes opened and I saw Garcia bent over an aluminum bowl eating what looked like a failed attempt at breakfast. She looked... different.

"Morning," she said and plastered what looked like a smile on her face. "Hungry?"

"I that a trick question?" I joked and scooted closer. She gingerly pushed me the bowl. Then I noticed what was wrong: Garcia had lost a lot of weight. I studied her and realized she mustn't have eaten in days. Maybe even since she got here. I shook my head. "I don't need it."

"What? Yes you do. Who else is going to need strength to get us out of here?" she asked, punching me in the shoulder so lightly I stiffened. I shook my head again. "You eat it." But when I didn't touch it, she scowled and shoved the bowl into my lap.

"What?"

"I'm not a child. I don't need to be taken care of."

"Hey. That's not what I meant." She crossed her arms and pouted like an angry teenager who knew they would give in eventually. She had pulled this on my countless times, but this time... I thought she meant it. Maybe the real thing that had changed about her was not her weight loss, but her character. She wasn't the sheltered girl I knew from a week ago. The woman who couldn't even look at crime scene photos without my holding her hand. She was stronger.

"Yes it is. I don't need any help." I looked at her face and could see she meant it. "I'm going to sleep. Eat the food," she insisted. She lay down on the cement floor; her body hitting the ground at awkward angles.

"Baby Girl, come here." At first she didn't move. But then she slowly crawled toward me and nestled her head on my chest.

"You know I can't resist such an offer." I smiled and held her till her breathing took on a regular rhythm.

...

These eggs were delicious. I had never tasted anything so perfect. I scraped the bowl clean and set it down on the floor, accidentally knocking a strand of Garcia's hair out of place. I moved my hand to push it back, but stopped when my hand brushed her cheek. I had never seen Garcia sleep before and certainly never in my own arms. She looked almost peaceful; she looked beautiful. Under all the cuts and burns I still saw my Penelope, dreaming softly. Why had I never noticed this? That she was beautiful and... No. This... This wasn't right. I wasn't supposed to think of her this way. We were best friends, nothing more.

Just when I was drifting off, Garcia started to squirm. She had started to shake and whimper in her dreams. "Garcia... Hey, Silly Girl, wake up. Hey come on..." But my words had no effects on her unconscious body.

"Please stop... You're hurting him. Please! Don't!" She started to sweat and writhe in my arms.

"Hey come on wake up! GARCIA!" I screamed. She bolted upright, breathing heavily. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah. Just a bad dream." I nodded. I felt uncomfortable looking at her face because of what I had been thinking earlier. It seemed so wrong now.

"What?" she asked as she tried to catch my eyes. I looked around the cell; pretending to be interested in the weapons scattered around the room. My eye wandered with no sense of purpose until my gaze landed on the video camera. I could practically see the light bulb above my head.

"I have an idea."

...

"So? What happened? Are we working the case?" JJ asked.

"No." Hotch solemnly replied.

"But how is that possible? We know them! We can help! Especially since we have that live video feed..." Prentiss pressed.

"I know, but they won't listen," Hotch sighed. "I think we should go back to the house and see if we can get anything else. I don't care about protocol or Agent Greene. We are finding the sick man that did this."

...

When they arrived at Garcia's house, everyone continued in except JJ.

"I'm sorry. I can't..." she choked out.

"JJ, you look at rotting, mutilated, and tortured bodies for a living. You can stand to see the empty house of your friend that you _will_ see again," Reid told her. She nodded and entered the vacant apartment. The video feed was still up; the un-sub kept his word.

"Oh my God..." Prentiss said as she turned away. They could all see Morgan and Garcia huddled on the floor. Morgan was talking to her, he seemed excited.

"Why isn't the sound on?" JJ asked.

"He must have turned it off since he has no audience," Hitch guessed.

"Then why wouldn't he turn the whole thing off?" Reid asked.

"There's a lot we don't know about him..." Prentiss concluded.

"Has something happened?" Reid asked, when he saw Morgan get to his feet.

"I'm not sure..." Hotch replied. Then they all saw Morgan move to the corner of the cell, his feet scuffling on the floor. He bent over and picked up a tiny stone. Then he made eye contact with the camera and pointed to his eyes. "He wants to tell us something."

"What is he doing?" asked JJ. They watched transfixed as Morgan carefully scratched a message onto the floor with the stone that read: _Nightmare. By train tracks. Getting weak._

...

"Do you think it worked?" Garcia asked.

"I sure as hell hope so."

"I think I'm going to go back to sleep."

"You won't stay up and talk to me?" She hesitated.

"It hurts less when I'm asleep."

"Where does it hurt, baby?"

"Everywhere." I crossed the room and knelt to hug her. I wrapped my weakening arms around her slimming shoulders and squeezed.

"We will get out of here. I promise." She nodded. Then her eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you think he does when he's gone?" Just then the door banged open.

"Well I guess we're about to find out." The killer walked toward the cage. Before he could press the button I held up a hand and backed away from the door. I was too weak to even try. He smiled.

"Excellent. You're learning." He stepped into the cage and walked toward Garcia.

"Whoa whoa whoa. I'm not learning that fast," I told him.

"Morgan. Listen to him. Please, I can't take it if he hurts you again." I was about to tell her to stay out of this, but her glazed eyes stopped me. Damn, that was my weakness. I backed off. The killer took Garcia and roughly took her out of the cage. He sat her in a chair and strapped her to the back.

"Today my patience runs out."

...

The team stood with their mouths agape. When Morgan had told them that Nightmare was responsible for this, they had been shocked. But now... They couldn't move. They watched in horror as Garcia was led from the cage to the chair and Morgan did nothing to stop it. Once the killer had Garcia in the chair, he walked over and pressed the button that allowed sound at Garcia's apartment.

"We have an audience. Let's put on a good show. Shall we?" Neither Morgan nor Garcia moved. The air was thick and the killer paced. "I informed you yesterday of what I want. But, lets inform our viewers of what that is. Shall we?" The un-sub turned to face the camera and looked at the team. "I want Hotch's son's location... For your freedom..."

Hotch knelt and put his face in his hands, but the team was way past that. JJ let out a cry and Prentiss sat down. The killer just laughed.

"Will you take this deal? Or not?"

"We aren't taking the deal," Morgan said defiantly.

"Really? You would rather I harm her than give up your boss's son? Pity..." He inched closer to Garcia. He almost had the blade to her throat when Morgan choked out,

"But I will give you my life for hers."

"We already went over this. You suffer more alive than dead..."

"That's not true. Emotional pain is different than physical."

"Sorry, but no. That won't do..." He pushed a little on Garcia's cheek and she whimpered. Before any blood could spill Morgan answered again,

"Please! What do you want? Anything else!"

"Anything?"

"Yes. Anything."

"OK, how about a trade off? I will replace Garcia with... how does Agent Jennifer Jareau sound?"

JJ sucked in a breath and yelled, "Yes, I'll do it!

Morgan shook his head again. "I'm sorry, I can't do that to part of my team."

"Then I'm really sorry about this..."

Morgan was in tears now. On the border line of hysterical.

"Stop! Something else!"

"You are trying my patience and I won't stand for it!" Anger flashed behind his calm mask.

"Just, give me a day to think it over. I'll come up with something to your satisfaction. I promise."

The killer stopped to process this. He took the knife from Garcia's dry face and placed it back in its holder. "Fine. One day. Come up with a satisfactory deal or I will come up with one for you." He walked over and pressed the button and the sound connection to the team disappeared.

...

"I would have done it. In fact, I will."

"JJ, you don't have to do that," Prentiss said calmly.

"I'd do it for Garcia. I'd do it for them," she insisted.

"I know. I know you would."

...

The un-sub untied Garcia from her chair and opened the gate. He didn't even bother trying to make me back up; I wasn't even paying attention I was so disgusted with myself. I had actually considered giving up JJ; she was stronger than Garcia right now.

"I'll be back in the morning with food and water. You think over your options," he sneered and exited the room. I looked at Garcia and reached up to dry her tears when I noticed there were no tears. Her face was dry. I had blubbered like a useless animal and she remained collected; like I should have been.

"Garcia, I'm so sorry-"

"What are you talking about? You saved my life. You talked your way out of that. You can do it tomorrow." I stared into her eyes and became lost in their depth. How was she doing that? Surely she hadn't always looked at me like that. But she had and I knew it. How could I have not noticed this? Garcia and I always talked about relationships and how hard they were. Yet, we went out regularly. I basically lived at her house and we almost never called each other by our actually names. Come to think of it, we flirted shamelessly every time we spoke.

"Morgan? Are you alright?" I didn't say anything. "Derek? DEREK?"

"What?"

"Are you OK?" I snorted.

"Yeah Princess. I've been beaten and starved. You've been tortured, starved and almost died like ten times. But hey! I'm still here!" I said sarcastically.

"Thank God."

**A/N: Thanks so much for your fabulous reviews and for sticking with me. Constructive criticism; I'm open to new ideas. R and R!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show. Just the plot!**

Chapter 4

24 Hour Decisions

The BAU was a blur of action. Hotch had talked to Agent Greene after watching the exchange between Morgan and the un-sub. He had agreed to let them back on the case, regarding they could remain objective.

"Reid, I need you to go back to Garcia's with Prentiss and watch them. Study the room and listen for any out of place noises. JJ, I need you to set up a press conference and get everyone looking for this man. Rossi, can I have a word?" He nodded and followed Hotch through the maze of desks to his office.

"What is it?"

"I need you to watch JJ. She... She's too close to this. Make sure she doesn't... I don't know... Make any mistakes or feel like she is alone."

"Of course. And, Hotch? How are you holding up?"

"Well enough."

...

My eyes snapped open. It was still early and I could smell rain creeping in from the cracks in the walls. Garcia and I had taken refuge in the farthest corner from the door. Her arms were wrapped around my waist and her head lay gracefully on my chest. Under any other circumstances I would have been thrilled at our positioning, but not now with the way things were. I stole another glance at her face, her features becoming more prominent and rigid. There was still a trace of mascara on her eyes and the cuts were already beginning to turn to scars. I grimaced. Even if we did get out of here, she would have to be reminded of this every time she looked in the mirror.

As I listened to the rain pounding on the roof, I thought of the riddle he had given me three days earlier. It made sense now; obvious even. Why couldn't I have gotten it before? I could have prevented this, all of it. "This is all my fault," I whispered, tears slid from my glassy eyes. "I'm killing you." I forced myself to look at her hollow face and vowed, "If we ever get out of here, I'll spend my life making it up to you." And before I could stop myself I leaned over and kissed her forehead, causing her to stir. She groaned and muttered,

"Good morning." Before sitting up. I shivered, feeling cold without her pressed to my body. _Stop it. Those thoughts aren't helping. _My face must have looked disgusted because Garcia's eyes narrowed and she pushed herself away from me.

"Well I'm sorry if my looks don't meet your standards."

"That's not what I was-"

"Save it!" She moved to stand, but fell as soon as she put weight on her legs, back into my arms. She looked startled and disbelieving.

"I can't even... Stand anymore," she choked out.

"I told you, you should have eaten the food yesterday," I tried to joke. She scowled and crawled to the bars and hoisted herself up.

"I'm fine, see?" She let go and walked toward me, shaking only slightly. Would I be like that in a couple days? Garcia had only been here for five days, and she could barely walk. How were we ever going to get out of here, if we couldn't even run to freedom?

...

We didn't have to wait long before the killer returned. He brought with him a canister of water and a tray of food. This time it was toast with peanut butter.

"Have you decided yet?" He asked.

"I still have until tonight," I sputtered.

"You do indeed..." he replied, clearly disappointed. "I will be back after dark. It will cost her blood if you don't come up with something..." Then I got an idea. As soon as his back was turned I told Garcia and she smiled. The door slammed behind him, and I moved to get a quick look at where they were. I had expected the forest, I only saw black. It wasn't still night, was it? I couldn't be sure.

"Where are we?" Garcia screamed. I wanted to comfort her, but I felt empty. We needed something; a hint or an image. Anything. We needed an honest to God miracle.

...

Reid sat transfixed as he watched Morgan and Garcia in the prison. He looked for something to give him an idea of where they were. Every hour he heard the roar of a train and he could see the weapons and various boxes that were stacked in the corners. Yet, he couldn't quite piece together the pictures. Why would a kidnapper keep weapons lying around for his captives to see and maybe get their hands on? We he that confident? Reid already knew he was organized because he came at the same time every day. Twelve thirty on the dot. And then at night, always after ten. It was very unusual. He decided to call Hotch. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, it's Reid. I think I got something."

...

"Ahh yes! I win again! Haha!" Garcia yelled in victory, but was drowned out by the train's engine.

"That train is seriously irritating," she said happily.

"I know you mean it because you have a smile on your face," I said. She rolled her eyes and knelt down to wipe away our tic-tac-toe game we had carved into the floor with rocks, with her torn sleeve. As she drew a new game, I started to think of what I could do for the killer. It was hard to believe that Garcia had so much faith in me when I didn't even think I could get us out of here.

"Ready?" she asked. I knew this was her way of coping: distracting herself was the best she could do. I couldn't blame her.

"Ready. I'm X's this time." She pouted. God, she was cute when she did that.

"Fine." She put her circle in the middle and looked back at me. I tried to focus on the game, but my thoughts kept straying to my options. I knew he loved manipulation and torture. In other words, power. I didn't even notice Garcia was staring at me till she cleared her throat.

"Are you even trying?" she wondered. I smiled and shook my head.

"Not really. I was thinking about tonight."

"I know. That's what the game was here for: to help you _not_ to think about it." When I didn't respond she said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Do you really think I'm going to say no to that, Princess?" She shrugged.

"What did you think of me when we first met?" I was confused. Was she scared I didn't like her?

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, did you think I was..." she strained for the words.

"You want me to tell you what I thought?" I asked pulling her to me.

"Yes please."

"I thought you were a breath of fresh air. All my life I felt like I was suffocating; people tried to use me. Especially women. But you... You told me the truth and you didn't hold back. You didn't try to impress me. You just... You just let it happen." My shirt felt wet. "Garcia... Did I...?"

"No! No. It's just that... That's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"That's hard to believe." She laughed through her tears. "Can I tell you something?"

"Most likely," she mischievously answered.

"When I told you I loved you, I meant it."

...

"Reid, what did you find?" He pointed to the screen.

"Two things. One, the un-sub always comes and goes at the same time. Twelve thirty to one. Then again after ten and stays for an hour."

"What does this mean?"

"He has a strict schedule and can't mess it up. So, it could revolve around his job, or he could have a disorder that causes him to stick to his schedule." Hotch nodded.

"And the other thing?"

"He leaves weapons around the room and boxes are within reach of his captives. That extremely unusual."

"It probably means he can't moves the items anywhere else. That he has to use this room," Hotch concluded.

"Right. That's what I thought. It didn't make any sense until exactly one p.m."

"Why not?"

"I heard the train from outside the room. I looked back and saw that the train arrives at the same times every day. That's extremely unlikely. Train's schedules switch daily; they almost never come and go at the same times."

"So...?"

"Hotch, I don't think it's a real train and I don't think Garcia and Morgan are isolated."

...

I was the stupidest man alive. Why did I say that? I was still freaking out when Garcia said,

"So did I." As if that was obvious. I breathed a sigh of relief. She still thought I meant it in a "best friends" kind of way. Wait, did I mean it that way? Yes. Yes I did. I didn't _love_ Garcia. I couldn't. The idea made absolutely... I stopped. I couldn't hide this from myself anymore. The idea made absolutely perfect sense.

"So, what now?" I was about to ask the same question.

"Not to be rude, but I don't think I can stomach another game of tic-tac-toe. Really, spare me," I tried to say smiling. She fell for it and gave me a warm smile back. Before I could stop myself, I had the urge to kiss her. I wanted to feel her round lips on mine; to hold her and tell her I'd never love anyone more. _STOP._ My mind needed to quit with the fantasies. It was going to drive me crazy. I glanced at the ceiling for something to do and felt all the air leave me. I had been here over three days and not once had that spot of light returned. Had someone put something on top of the hole?

"Sorry, I need to get up. Something's wrong." Her eyebrows creased and I stood up. She tried to stand, but I gently pushed her back. "You need to rest."

"What's wrong?" Her voice full of concern. I sighed and let it come tumbling out. I told her how on the second day I saw her kidnapped, there had been a spot of light in front of her. That I had concluded she was in a single cell. But now it had been five days and I hadn't seen the light again.

"So?"

"Garcia! This is great!"

"Want to tell me why, before this spunky genius chokes you?" she asked sarcastically.

"It means that the un-sub cut a hole in the ceiling and shined a flask light through the it; making me think you were in the middle of the woods and to throw me off!"

"WHY IS THIS MAKING YOU HAPPY? You were tricked!"

"Garcia, this means we aren't in the middle of the woods. We're in a building."

...

Hotch walked with purpose toward JJ and Rossi. "Conference room. Now." They hurriedly followed him. When everyone took their seats, Reid told them what he found out.

"Well this is good isn't it? They aren't in the middle of nowhere," Prentiss said joyfully.

"It means, we need to find and get a record of every employee that works in a place where they have a train on display."

"Like a museum?" Reid's eyes widened.

"Yes! That would explain the weapons in the room! Look for museums where they recently took weapons off display, but still have them in the building."

"That would explain why he kept to a strict schedule," JJ said.

"This is going to take longer since we don't Garcia to find them for us..." Prentiss said standing up.

"I can have everyone in this building helping in fifteen minutes," JJ said.

"Let's move," said Hotch, already running towards the door.

...

It was almost time for the Sam Davis to leave and he could hardly contain his excitement. The doors to the museum had closed ten minutes earlier and was about to grab his coat when Jared walked out from his office, followed by a couple local police officers.

"Hey, Sam! You can leave. I'll lock up. These feds just wanna ask me a few questions about the disappearances of a couple of cops. Great work today!"

"Thanks boss!" He smiled and turned to grab his coat**. **He made his way to the back room slowly and watched Jared from behind a white pillar. How did the cops think they were involved?

"So, can you guys ask me here? I really gotta get home." The officers exchanged looks and nodded in agreement.

"Any of your employees seem suspicious to you?"

"No! They all great. Some are really good friends of mine." They nodded.

"None of them could have done this?"

"'Course not! I do background check on em' all. They clean as my mother's dishes." They nodded again.

"Thank you for your time." They shook hands and exited the building.

"Have any of my employee been suspicious lately. HA!" he muttered to himself as he walked back into his office. Sam waited till he closed the door before sprinting down the hallway and opening the door reveling the sleeping bodies of Agent Morgan and Penelope Garcia.

...

The killer entered the room and put on a gas mask.

"What are you-" I almost asked before he took out what looked like a fire extinguisher and let loose the chemical into the air. "Garcia..." She was sleeping next to me. I had to save her. What if it was poison? I kept my eyes open a good ten seconds after the gas reached my nose, but then everything went black.

...

When I woke up, the only thing that mattered was Garcia. I didn't see her immediately after my eyes opened, but then I wish I never saw her. She was cuffed next to me, a gag in her mouth. I realized the same was done to me. We were in a car, cruising down the freeway. I rose enough to see the digits on the clock. They read after midnight. We had been driving for over four hours. Why the hell was the killer moving us _now_? We were never going to get out of the other cell and we were growing weaker by the day! Garcia stirred next to me. She looked surprised by what she saw. I did the best shrug I could muster and heard the car turn onto a gravel road. Five minutes later, the killer must have pressed the gas button again because I woke up in harsh light. I was sitting in a chair behind bars once again. I sighed: he couldn't get any more creative?

The door opened and Garcia was pushed inside; her hair wet. She was trembling and her eyes seemed big. Mechanically, she pulled the gag from my mouth and untied my hands. "Why are you wet?" When she didn't answer I became concerned. Was it raining outside? "What happened?"

"Please. I don't know, I don't want to think about it," she cried. She sat on the carpeted floor; at least that was new.

"Garcia... Did he...?" I stopped. She looked at me.

"I don't know. I woke up in clean clothes. My hair was wet and my wounds had been washed." I was going to murder him. Dammit, he gave her a fucking bath? Words couldn't describe my rage.

"It's fine. I wasn't awake."

"It most certainly is _not_ fine!"

"He's done worse," she said with pleading eyes. The thought of anyone touching her sickened me and I punched the bars. This sick, twisted minded basterd was going to pay.

"Why did we move?" I asked.

"I... I don't know for sure. But I have a theory," she smiled. "You will like it..." she prodded. How could she dismiss the other topic so easily? I paced for a good two minutes, taking deep breathes before looking up at her perfect face. Be strong for her.

"What's you theory, Baby Girl?" She looked hopeful and bit her lip before answering,

"They found us."

**Thanks so much for the feedback. I didn't expect to go this way with the story, but I didn't want to do a trade off. Thanks for the reviews! Please please please R and R!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Although I would love to own Derek Morgan and his team, I don't. I own nothing except the plot .*sigh***

Chapter 5

Empty Rooms

"Nothing? None of them seemed even remotely suspicious?" JJ practically yelled at the local officers.

"I'm sorry. None of them stood out." She sighed. They needed to find them before they were moved. They didn't even have the video feed anymore! Reid told them he turned it off about ten o'clock. What if that meant...

"Agent Jennifer Jareau? Can we speak with you a moment?" She nodded and went with two of the local officers into Hotch's office.

"JJ, these men think they found the museum and it certainly matches the description," Hotch informed her.

"Really? Which one?"

"It's 1463 Claymoore. It's about three hours from here. I sent a team there about three minutes ago."

...

It was about four a.m. and I hadn't gotten any sleep yet. Even on the carpeted floor and Garcia in my arms, I couldn't stop thinking about what the killer had done to her. She seemed to think that even though she was asleep that it was OK for him to... My body turned to fire. Hadn't he done enough? Hadn't he-

"Derek Morgan! You go to sleep RIGHT NOW," Garcia yelled. I laughed.

"I'm trying Sweetness, but it's a little difficult when I have you wrapped in my arms," I confidently stated. God, if she only knew how much I meant it.

"My position isn't changing any time soon, so close your eyes," she said as she drifted back into sleep. How was she doing that? Wasn't she afraid of what she might see if she closes he eyes? I shook my head and said quietly,

"You will always amaze me." I leaned against the wall and was leaving this world when the door opened. My eyes opened and I looked for a weapon, but I remembered Garcia's theory and said, "Hotch? Reid? Hello?" Instead I only got laughter.

"Do you really think they are going to find you that fast?"

"I think they did and that's why we moved," I replied curtly. His smile left his face; so Garcia was right. "Why are you here?"

"I came to take your love up to the main house, if that's alright with you."

"That is _so_ not going to happen," I said, but was frightened because it might.

"Don't you want her to be comfortable?" he quickly responded.

"I'm pretty sure she is," I said and motioned to her sleeping body. The killer just shook his head and entered the cage. He walked toward us and I moved Garcia behind me.

"What's going on?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing go back to sleep-"

"Is that you Sam?" I whirled around. What the hell? Who was Sam?

"It is. Come here." She got up and hugged him. He pulled her close and kissed her hard.

"Garcia! He's the killer!" She looked at me like I was stupid.

"I know! He's dreamy..."

"Come my dear..." She glanced back before she left the room.

"Bye Derek..."

...

I awoke in a sweat. I was breathing so hard Garcia fell from my lap and hit the floor with a cry.

"Well good morning to you too," she grumbled. I felt shocked and then relief, followed by guilt. I believed that Garcia would leave me for him.

"Sorry... Just a bad dream," I said. I glanced at her intensely. She had called him Sam... What if that was his actual name! That would me mean we could tell Hotch- Damn. There wasn't a video feed anymore. I smiled. But I could still make the un-sub sweat. As if on cue, the door opened and the killer entered the room. "Good morning Sam," I said as nonchalantly as I could, but to no avail: the killer dropped the tray of food and the pitcher of water. Garcia even looked at me like I was a mad man.

"YOU KNOW HIS NAME?" she screamed.

"I guess so," I said, so happy I could have danced. The killer tried to compose himself and asked,

"I see you aren't as stupid as I once thought." He turned to Garcia. "I'll be back with food and water tomorrow." Slamming the door on his way out.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to-" I stopped when she hugged me.

"How long have you known?" she asked incredulously.

"I had a strange dream last night. You called him Sam after he..." I trailed off.

"After I what?"

"I don't really want to..." She let go of me and stared at me head on.

"Spill," she said, as if I was revealing my darkest secrets. I sighed. She would just bug me about it until I came clean.

"You won't like it," I warned.

"I don't care." _You will,_I thought.

"The killer came in and you ran to kiss him. You left with him and went up to the main house; leaving me here. You called him Sam when he came in.

"Oh," she said. She crossed her legs and looked up at me. "I would never kiss that disgusting man and I would never leave you here without someone to tell you to fall asleep," she said lightly. A breath washed out of me. At least she wasn't mad.

"How comforting," I said just as playfully. I looked around the room and asked, "What now?"

...

Turns out, when two SWAT teams and the BAU enter your museum during business hours, it's a big deal.

"Do you have a warrant?" Jared asked the nearest SWAT member. Hotch handed him a crisp white piece of paper and motioned for the team to search the back hallways.

"Any of your employees not show up today?" JJ asked the stunned man.

"Ahh, I think Sam is the only one out today. I could be wrong." She nodded and said,

"This will only take a minute."

...

"One, two, three!" Hotch said, causing the agents to break down the door and search the room.

"Clear!"

"Clear!" Agents called from all corners of the room. They searched every closet and office until they came to the last one.

"Oh, that's Sam's office. He doesn't like anyone to-" he was interrupted by the agents breaking down the door. "Go in there," he finished and threw up his hands. Hotch entered first, gun raised, but didn't need to go more than two steps before he saw the blood.

"Holy shit!" Jared yelled. "I had nothing to do with that!" They walked toward the cage.

"They left in a hurry," Prentiss said and shook her head. "The police coming here must have tipped him off."

"Get forensics in here!" Hotch yelled down the hallway.

"Did you find... Oh my God." JJ stopped short when she saw the room and turned around. "I was afraid of that."

...

"HA! Your down ten now," I said.

"Hey, I have a history of incredible comebacks," she countered.

"Yeah, right," I answered disbelievingly. We had fashioned a game where we would throw rocks into a white circle we had drawn. She may have beaten me at tic-tac-toe, but I was winning at this. I turned when I didn't hear a snarky remark come from her lips. "What's wrong?" I asked, feeling stupid again. Everything was wrong. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the tears that were building in her eyes. "Hey, talk to me." She crawled into my lap; why did that never get old?

"I wasn't asleep." I snapped out of my thoughts and glared down on her.

"I was afraid of that."

"I was for part of it. Asleep I mean. But I woke up and I thought you were leaning over me, so I didn't do anything. My vision was blurry, and I just thought you were picking me up." A tear escaped and landed on my hand; it felt like a bullet.

"You don't have to talk about it," I said, although it pained me. She acted as if she heard nothing and said,

"He was taking me out of the bath when I woke up. He laid me on a towel. He wrapped my arms inside of it so I couldn't move and then he..." She couldn't speak anymore she was crying so hard. I would kill him. I would take his tiny head and squeeze till it popped. Then I would take a rock and shove it- I shook my head. I needed to help Garcia, not plan how I was going to get sent to jail.

"Shhh shhh. You don't have to talk anymore."

"The worst past was... He said I... He said I did well for the first time." My grip on her frail body tightened.

"I won't let him hurt you. I'll make sure you don't go to the house again. I promise," I squeaked out.

"You can't promise that. I would rather have him hurt me than you," she whispered and looked up into my eyes. I would show her. I would prove to her I would. Before I could stop myself I leaned forward and kissed her; just lightly at first. She was clearly surprised, but I waited until she pressed on my mouth back. When she didn't, I pulled away.

"I'm sorry I-" I was cut off by her arms grabbing my neck and pulling my mouth to hers. She cried while she kissed me and it was greatly disturbing. I pulled away and tried to choke out "You don't have to-" But she frowned and kissed me again.

"You're making this extremely hard to-" But I returned the favor and silenced her. I couldn't describe how amazing it felt to finally show her how I felt. My hands moved to her face and she pulled harder on my neck. We didn't stop until we both were gasping for air.

"Morgan, I told you there would be no taking advantage of the princess," she gasped.

"As I recall, you kissed me second, so I was technically given permission."

"You always had permission."

...

"How did they get out that fast?" asked Hotch.

"I... I don't know," Prentiss stuttered.

"At least we have a name!" JJ said. Everyone agreed. They did have something.

"I'll talk to Jared. Maybe he knows something," said Rossi.

"I'll get Sam Davis's properties and his family's home addresses," Hotch said.

"I'll alert the press and give a picture to the media," JJ said.

"Lets-" Hotch halted in his steps as the TV in the conference room turned on.

"Good evening BAU."

...

Garcia was asleep. I think she was gifted with some unnatural ability to dream when she was captured and could die at any moment. But I wasn't complaining. Holding Penelope was as good as it was going to get for me. Feeling her warmth was never going to get old. She shifted and muttered,

"Please... Don't take him from me." It pained me to see her being hurt even inside her head.

"Hey Princess, I'm right here. Slap him across the face if you need to," I tried to tell her. The worst part was, I only just got her. Would any man be cruel enough to take her from me?

...

The clatter of dishes woke me from my two hour sleep. I moved to kiss Garcia's forehead, but ended up kissing open air. "Garcia!" I didn't need to look far: the un-sub had her to strapped to a chair outside the cell. I jumped to my feet and punched the bars. "Where is he?"

"He said he'd be right back. Try to relax."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Look, I saw him set up a camera. I think he put the other one where the team can see us. Please calm down," her eyes calmed me just enough to sit. The killer reentered the room five minutes later and said crisply,

"Morning. You were given an extra twelve hours, so I expect you're ready." He casually pressed a button said, "Welcome to the BAU." On the screen I saw the team; worried expressions all around. "We are meeting where we left off."

"Can't we offer you some kind of deal?" Prentiss asked.

"That is exactly what Agent Morgan is about to do. So? Have you come up with something?" I hung my head. I had. But, I thought it would come last resort. The killer moved toward Garcia and JJ gasped. I looked at the team and then to Garcia.

"I'm _so_ sorry," I told her. She look at me confused. Then my gaze trained on the killer. "You said emotional pain is more powerful than physical is that right?" He nodded. I looked at the dent from our sleeping bodies only moments before for about thirty seconds before answering.

"I love Garcia, with all my heart." Her eyes snapped to mine. "The act that would kill me most inside, is if I purposely hurt her."

"Where is he going with this?" Prentiss asked.

"If I..." I cleared my throat. "If I hurt Garcia, in the way that you choose, will you give her up?"

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews and opinions! Keep it up!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or the characters at all whatsoever.**

Chapter 6

False Betrayal

For the first time since I had been captive, I think I surprised the killer. When he heard my offer, I don't think he considered the consequences; the fact that I would be holding a knife in my hand. He only heard the fact that I was willing to hurt the only reason I remained happy in this world. That was fine with me. I didn't have to look at the monitor to know that the team was outraged or that JJ was crying. The only thing I saw was Garcia; mouth open and shocked.

"Derek... You wouldn't..." she started to say, but stopped when she saw my face. Her features turned cold. If only she knew there was no way in hell I was hurting her in any way. Not even if it meant her escaping. I was crushed she didn't know that.

"You've out done yourself. I'll give you a few days to... Get used to the idea," the killer said. My head didn't move, but my eyes said _of course._ He got the message and roughly freed Garcia from her bonds. He then shoved her back into the cell, pressing the button severing our only communication to the outside world and sank back to the shadows towards the door, leaving the chamber.

"Hey, come here," I said and reached out to comfort her. Her eyes widened and she slapped me.

"How could you? How... How can you be kissing me one minute and saying you love me and then the next volunteer to mutilate my body?" she asked. She didn't give me time to answer."Well?" I couldn't respond. "I see," she said backing away. "I get it. If I told someone I loved them and that I would fucking prove it to them, the way to do that would be to _hurt _them? Oh yup, that makes sense," she said rolling her eyes.

"Garcia, think about it," I pleaded.

"Think about WHAT?"

"Think about the fact that I might know what I'm doing!" I said, shaking her.

"Get off me." She pushed me away. "Don't even touch me again."

...

To say the BAU was shocked would be an understatement. Even Hotch showed some emotion on his face; something he hadn't done since his break up with Hailey.

"How could he do that?" JJ asked.

"I don't know..." Prentiss said as she hugged her friend.

"Hotch," said Rossi. "I don't think Morgan would do this without a reason. He has to have a plan. I mean, you have heard their phone conversations. Garcia is like his sister." Hotch nodded.

"I would do the same thing if I were him," Hotch said quietly. JJ's gaze snapped to Hotch's face. "Think about it JJ. The killer has to let Morgan out of the cell, and untie him. Then, on top of that, he has to hand him a weapon," Hotch said, raising his eyebrows. He watched as realization crossed everyone's face.

"He's going to try to kill him."

...

Garcia was mad. She was so mad, I swear I saw her eyes turn a scarlet color. So mad, that she insisted on sleeping alone, even though it was freezing where we were. She wouldn't talk or look at me. She wouldn't even move. She just sat and watched the monitor, praying for it to turn on. I understood why she was upset, but she couldn't avoid me for long.

This time when morning arrived, I was actually asleep. I figured I would have stayed asleep if I hadn't heard her crying. I got up to comfort her; I didn't care if she swatted me away. But then I saw she was asleep. "I thought you loved me. Why are you hurting me?" she whispered.

"I don't know," I tried to tell her. "I don't know." I hated what I was doing to her, but if I told her what was going on, the killer might get suspicious of why she wasn't mad at me or he might over hear us. I couldn't risk it. I decided to lay next to her, just for awhile. I carefully picked her up and moved her to my arms. I sighed. Hopefully I was still able to do this in fifty or sixty years. I could feel her waking up and prepared myself for her anger.

"Why are you over here?" she asked warily.

"You looked... cold," I answered. She pushed herself away from me, trying to hide her tears.

"I told you I didn't want to touch you again. You're making it really hard to fulfill that promise."

"That was the goal," I said relieved she wasn't mad. She did not smile.

"I miss them. I miss Reid and his awkwardness. I miss Hotch and his scary face. I miss Prentiss and her fluidity in tens of languages. I... I miss Rossi and his stupid riddles no one can figure out." She looked up at me. "I miss the way you call me beautiful and charming."

"You are beautiful and charming," I managed to say, but she shook her head.

"It's not the same; you are saying it like you might not say it again."

"Then let's make sure I have a chance to say it again," I said slowly as I leaned down. When I was two inches away she whispered,

"What are you waiting for?" I chuckled and pulled her close. It was ridiculous how much better I felt. My breathing became raged and I pulled her on top of me. "This is _so_ much better with carpet," she breathed and I smiled. It wasn't, not to me. Her hands slid to my shirt and I let her hands roam freely. I played with the hem of her shirt and finally allowed myself to lift it at the edges. She shivered as my hands touched her stomach and scooted up her back. Her legs wrapped around mine and I could tell this needed to stop. I separated my lips from hers. "We are being videotaped."

" Think he will let us watch it later?" she asked playfully, but got my message. She pushed herself off me. "I'm sorry I-"

"Whoa whoa. You don't need to apologize. I told the un-sub I would torture you. You have every right to be mad." She nodded.

"I'm glad you changed your mind," she whispered in my ear. I was about to correct her, that I had not changed my mind, but stopped. I wasn't going to touch her anyway, why did she need to know the difference? So, against my better judgment, I smiled back and said, "Me too."

...

"Do we have _any_ more leads?" Prentiss asked desperately.

"We are going to get the addresses to his house soon-"

"Agent Hotchner? The addresses are in your office."

"Forgive me. Now." Prentiss smiled and yelled,

"Conference room guys." The team followed Prentiss and Hotch into the room.

"OK, he has a house on 2486 Woodland. His parents have a house only a couple miles away at 5478 Frost."

"Let's split up; Prentiss and I will go Sam's house. Rossi, Reid and JJ will go to the parents house," Hotch said.

"Ok, let's go."

...

The next day was uneventful. The un-sub came and delivered breakfast. Garcia and I played our rock games with stray items on the floor. Night came to fast and kissing her never got old. I broke away breathlessly. "We need to sleep."

"Shut up Morgan," she muttered before wrapping her arms around my neck in a tight lock. God, I loved this woman.

"Really, we need to sleep. We have _all_ day tomorrow Silly Girl." She started to pout, but I turned up the corners of her mouth with my fingers.

"Fine," she said. "'Night."

...

Hotch and Prentiss arrived at Sam Davis's house and pounded on the door peeling.

"Sam Davis! FBI, open up!" When they could hear nothing inside, Prentiss kicked down the door and they charged into the room with their guns raised. The foyer was filled with old fast food meals and newspapers. There were dirty plates in the sink and the rug hadn't been vacuumed in weeks. The couch that was positioned in front of the TV had holes in it. It looked like someone broke in and trashed the place.

"Clear!" Prentiss called from the living room.

"Clear!" Hotch yelled from somewhere in the house.

"Damn it. He's not here," Prentiss called. "I don't think he's lived here for awhile."

"I'll get forensics in here. Maybe they will find something."

...

JJ, Reid, and Rossi arrived at Sam's parent's house. In the front stood a garden and JJ could see the mother sitting in a chair on the porch.

"Can I help you?"she asked as they walked up to the house.

"Hello, I'm Agent Rossi and this is Agent Reid and Agent Jareau from the FBI. Mrs. Davis, do you know where your son is?"

"No, I haven't seen him in months! Not since he came by to talk to Ralf in November." They nodded.

"Can we please speak with your husband?"

"Well, he's out of town on business, but I will give you a call when he gets back."

"I would appreciate that. Just one last thing, do you know what your son wanted to talk to your husband about?"

"No. No, I'm afraid I don't."

...

"Morning!" Garcia whispered in my ear and I jumped awake.

"Morning," I groaned.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

"Is that a trick question?" I laughed.

"I guess."

"Why are you so happy," I asked.

"Kissing an attractive man can do that to you," she replied. I sighed. I needed to get up. I stretched and stood before Garcia could protest. Just as I was on my feet, the door opened and the killer walked in.

"Morning," he muttered. "I'm going to need to borrow Garcia today." I snapped out of my good mood and moved in front of her. "Come now... Don't make this hard on yourself." When I didn't move he took out a gun. "You are really going to make me shoot you?"

"Apparently." Garcia stomped on my foot.

"Don't. I'll go." I snorted.

"No, you are not." The killer sighed and cocked his weapon.

"Please don't. He doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm going with you," she said.

"Garcia!" I yelled.

"If he shoots you, you'll die!"

"You should listen to her more often," he said tightly.

"Morgan, I'm going." I grabbed her arm.

"If he wants you, he can come in here to get-" He fired at the ceiling.

"I'm losing my patience," he snarled and shot me in the leg. I tried not to let it phase me, but ended up on the floor. I heard the door open and heard him say, "You did so well last time, I thought we could try it again."

...

The team met back at the BAU only after two hours.

"Any luck?" asked Hotch.

"None."

"We should talk to the father when he gets back. She said he'd be home about two tomorrow."

"It's a start."

...

I woke up with a major headache. The pain in my leg so fierce it made me cry out. I took off my shirt and wrapped my wound in the fabric. Why did he want Garcia? I shuddered at the only liable answer I could think of. If he touched her I swear to God I would enjoy killing him tomorrow night.

The door to the room opened and in walked the killer and Garcia. She didn't look upset or hurt at all. In fact, the only difference between the two was the big black eye the killer had on his left eye. I stifled a laugh. The killer quickly opened the door and shoved her inside. When he couldn't see her face, she smiled to herself. He left without a word. "Did you punch him?"

"Not really..." I starred at her intensely. "It was more of a 'pick up a heavy object and hit him with it' kind of thing." I burst out laughing. "I hit him with a dust sucker. He didn't go near me after that. I was only gone like ten minutes."

"That's my girl," I laughed.

**A/N: Please, oh please, review! I had to stay home and babysit my brothers all weekend which is why I've written like three chapters. I won't be updating this regularly during the week, but I definitely will publish one chapter before the weekend. Again, please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.**

Chapter 7

Intensive Care

Black night engulfed him as he ran through the trees. Hitchhiking all night was hard enough, but when he got to a place where cars couldn't take him, he had to run. Owls filled the forest with music as he crouched through the brush. It was a good thing this was his cabin, or he would have gotten lost miles ago. He could see a faint outline of his quaint summer home and the crystal shimmer of the lake. He never would have guessed as a child that one day he would hold two FBI agents hostage in his favorite place; the place he learned to water ski and roast his first marsh mellow. Then again, he never would have guessed that his wife would have cheated on him. At least, not until Sam told him.

When he finally stumbled to the front steps, he made sure his feet were silent. Sam had said he didn't want to inform their guests he had a partner. Just like he made sure they couldn't tell he locked the door from the outside whenever he entered the room. He didn't want them knowing he hid the key inside the wall next to the door. But even Sam knew you couldn't keep secrets forever. When he finally stepped into the hall and gently closed the door, he suspected that this wouldn't really be his home: It would be Sam's.

The kitchen smelled sweet, like someone had just melted chocolate. There were bowls scattered on the counter that had probably been there since he had arrived. He took a deep breath. _You knew he would be like this. Just relax._ He glided down the stairs, hoping he would find Sam, but he wasn't there. He sat in his father's leather chair and closed his eyes. _"Why was I doing this?"_he thought. "_Why am I hurting these people?"_

"Because it is what's best," his wife whispered from the corner. As she stood up, he could see her clothes were still bloody and the cuts were still fresh.

"Listen to her daddy. She only wants to help," his oldest told him. He reached out to touch her, but she slipped through his fingers.

"Leave me alone! Go away!" he screamed. His son Aidan patted his shoulder and went to stand by his brother, Jasper.

"We won't hurt you daddy. We just want to help," they said in unison. "We love you," they smiled.

"No! You're dead! I helped kill you!" he told them.

"No you didn't! We're right here! With you! Sam killed us," they insisted. His wife came up behind them.

"That's my boys," she soothed. "Now give daddy a hug." They walked over and hugged him, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," he choked out. They had just gone up the stairs when Sam entered the room with a huge grin on his face.

"Ryan! I see you're out of the hospital."

...

It was the eve of our escape. _Finally._It was already into the morning and Garcia was fast asleep in my just strong enough arms. The bleeding in my leg had stopped, but the effects of being shot were still present. Garcia muttered in her sleep and gripped my sides tightly. I chuckled. My being shirtless had certainly set the mood for the night. Garcia had even gone so far as to ask if she needed to take off _her_ shirt to help stop the bleeding. I told her that would be unnecessary. Now, her face felt like fire on my chest and it was hard to concentrate on closing my eyes. After a ridiculous amount of trial and error, I managed to doze off; praying for the ability to win freedom the next day.

I awoke to Garcia lightly tracing my wound with her fingers, as if I were a masterpiece that could shatter at any moment. "Morning," I said cheerfully. She didn't respond. I frown etched itself into my forehead. "Garcia? Hey, Princess?" She looked up and smiled weakly.

"Hi."

"Is that it? A lousy one word response on our last day in prison?"

"I guess."

"Baby Girl, what is the matter with you?" I asked, flustered.

"Just nervous," she shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because... What if something goes wrong? And you have to hurt me? Or if you make him mad and he makes you kill me? Or if he hurts you. Or-"

"Hey hey hey. I'm not going to hurt you and he won't get close enough to touch me. He certainly won't get within ten feet of you. I promise."

"Promise?" she asked and her eyes lit up.

"I promise," I vowed.

...

"What time is the killer bringing us back online again?" JJ asked anxiously.

"Usually by ten. I'm pretty sure I told you the same thing the last time you came in here JJ. Maybe, five minutes ago?" Reid mused.

"Sorry. Just... Worried." she said.

"Understandable," Reid responded.

"Hey Reid, what time is-" Prentiss started, but never finished.

"Stop. Right there. You guys are making me nervous. Follow me." He got up and walked out of his office. "OK guys. Listen up. Cause I'm only going to explain this once. Be in the conference room at ten. That is my best guess. Don't ask again." A few people laughed as he sauntered back into his cramped working space. Hotch walked into the BAU moments later and made his way over to Reid office. Prentiss realized what was about to go down and snuck behind him.

"Reid, once more. When -" Reid growled and made hawk eyes at Hotch and he left the room without another word. He saw Prentiss and asked, "What did I do?" She just shook her head and walked away, smiling for the first time in days.

...

Ryan Walters stepped out of the still steaming shower. He wrapped himself in a damp towel and cautiously walked toward the mirror. He knew that was a mistake as soon as he looked into it.

"Why as you avoiding us daddy? Don't you love us?" his boys asked. He whipped around, but saw no one. He finished drying off when Sam came in.

"Hey. You OK?" Ryan nodded. "Great. Because today is the payoff."

...

Garcia and I were beyond bored. We had already done all the usual stuff. We even had a drawing competition, yet we still had a couple hours before dark. The room was also colder than usual, but maybe it was my lack of a shirt. Garcia didn't seem to mind though.

"Chocolate or vanilla?" she asked out of the blue.

"Vanilla," I said thoughtfully, without missing a beat.

"You are crazy. Chocolate," she said. "Black and white or rainbow?" I didn't have to think about that one.

"Black and white." She gasped.

"What? How would you live?"

"It would be easier for one thing. Simpler." It looked like she almost understood, but then she shook her head.

"No. Rainbow. Definitely rainbow." We lay in silence for awhile. "How are you going to do it tonight?" I really didn't want to talk about this now. He frightened voice was scaring me.

"Garcia, it is going to be _fine._" She sighed deeply, laid back on my chest, and closed her eyes for one the last time.

...

At nine-thirty, the entire BAU team was squeezed in the conference room. Every eye was on the monitor, waiting for it to turn on. The minutes ticked by and eventually everyone found a seat and sat down. At ten, the crowd turned to Reid.

"Reid, I thought you said-"

"NO. NO. NO! I said ten was my best guess. Please. Just... Stop," he whined. The remainder of the room rolled their eyes and starting tapping their feet or drumming their fingers on the table. They waited. Soon it was eleven, then twelve. By the time it was twelve-thirty, every eye was focused on Reid. "What?" he exclaimed. "It's not _my_ fault!"

...

"You are strong," Sam breathed in Garcia's ear. "If my lover was about to mutilate me, I wouldn't be sitting here dry eyed." She didn't move.

"That is where you are wrong. He is not going to hurt me. He changed his mind," she said as he finished tying her to the chair. The un-sub's eyes flashed to me.

"Excuse me?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I haven't changed my mind at all," I stated, looking at Garcia with fake curiosity. Her mouth dropped. I cringed on the inside.

"WHAT?" I feigned innocence and raised my shoulders slightly. This was going to kill me. I decided to change the subject.

"Why aren't you turning the cameras on?" I asked. The killer raised his eyebrows.

"They don't need to see this," he stated simply. In other words: he was the only one who got to enjoy it. Garcia was still staring at me when my eyes met hers again.

"How could you?" she mouthed. I tried to sneer, but ended up grimacing. Tears started to well in her eyes.

"OK. She is set. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to take this knife, and run it along both of her arms. Once you've done that, we'll talk about what's next." The killer took out a gun. My eyebrows shot up. "Just in case you pull anything." I nodded, telling him I understood. I braced myself and slowly rose my arm. Garcia was still in shock. Hot tears cascading down her cheeks. I needed something; any distraction. A shrill scream came from the house and the killer turned his back. I smiled to myself and thought, _that'll do._

...

The scream came from Ryan Walters. "PLEASE! Just go away!"

"Come on dad! Play with us!" his dead children yelled. They ran up and down the wooden stairs. Their mother laughed quietly from the kitchen.

"Yes Ryan. Play with them." Ryan put his hands to his ears and backed away. "Where are you going, dear?" He kept moving without looking back. "Ryan? RYAN! Don't leave me here alone!"

"You aren't here!" he screamed again. Suddenly she was in front of him.

"How do you know?"

...

The sound of metal sinking into flesh echoed around the room. Blood splattering on my bare chest. The killer fell to the ground. I raised my arm and struck again. I thought of every time he had touched Garcia and sunk the knife into his right leg. Of every time he had made us grow apart and plunged the weapon into his left foot. Every time he had made me feel guilty, wishing I could take back my lies and I stabbed him in the back of his head. I threw down the knife and punched his wounds. I knew he was dead after the first pierce of skin, but I pressed on. It was his fault I'd had to lie to Garcia. It was his fault she wouldn't be able to live her life the same anymore. Every scrape on her pearl white skin was on him. Every-

"Derek, _stop_ it! Stop! He is DEAD. Stop!" Garcia shrieked. No. She didn't understand. He had put us through hell and he was going to suffer for it. I raised my fist to strike again but Garcia whimpered. I lowered my hand and rested my face in my lap. Before I knew it water was coming out of my eyes. Everything was his fault. Everything, including Garcia and I. I wiped my tears on my wrist and turned to Garcia. She had shrunken away from me. I closed my eyes; what else could I mess up? I rose and untied her from the chair. She immediately backed away from me. I would be scared too if I saw her beat someone to death.

"Garcia. It's me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... Gone that far." She didn't stop backing up until her back hit the wall. "Hey, Baby Girl. I would never hurt you. Ever."

"But... You said-" I held up a hand.

"You really don't get why I said those things yet?" She cracked a small smile.

"I do." I breathed out a sigh of relief. Then I frowned.

"Then why are you mad?"

"I just wish I'd thought of it."

...

"Hotch, I don't know what went wrong!" Reid yelled fiercely.

"Reid, no one is blaming you!" Prentiss said over his fit.

"I just want to know what happened."

"We all do."

...

"Hey Princess, what do you say we get out of here?" I asked, almost forgetting about the door. Her eyes lit up like fire and she raced to hug me. She took my hand and reached toward the door knob. She twisted the brass knob and pulled. When the door didn't open she pulled again. She screamed and shook the door knob. "Hey calm down." I positioned myself and kicked at the door with all my strength. Sharp pain shot through my leg and I winced.

"Why? This isn't fair!" She yelled. "Anyone! Hear us please!" she screamed so loudly I was sure _someone_had to hear.

...

"Daddy, I think the pretty girl needs you," Jasper said and he tugged on Ryan's hand. His head twisted and listened. Sure enough, a scream rose above the chirps of crickets and caught hold of his attention.

"Go on Ryan. Sounds like you are needed." He glanced at his dead wife. She smiled and urged him forward. He opened the door and walked onto the lawn. He walked toward the garage and unlocked the door.

"Sam? Sam is everything all right-" His words were taken from his mouth as he received a punch in the face. He stumbled back and heard rapid footsteps running past him, into the never ending night.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and ideas! Keep it up!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Compulsions

**A/N: I'm sorry for those of you that are confused about what's going on. Here's a brief summary of what happened in the previous chapter:**

**Ryan Walters was the man that was sent to Intensive Care in chapter one. He was the husband and father of the murdered family. His wife had been cheating on him (will touch more on that in chapter nine).**

**In chapter seven you found out that Sam and Ryan both kidnapped Morgan and Garcia. I have implied that he feels guilty about killing his family and more will be discussed on that later.**

**The most important thing (also the most confusing) is that Ryan is suffering from****Schizophrenia.****He frequently sees his dead family and hears them talking to him, even though he knows they are dead and are not with him.**

**If you have any other questions, feel free to ask. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Although I would love to own Morgan and his muscles, I don't. Not even close.**

My face felt like fire as I sprinted through the trees, pulling Garcia behind me. Considering the fact that she had been starved and beaten for a week, she was keeping up exceedingly well. Branches whipped at my arms and legs, as if pulling us back into its deathly grasp. Every step I took sounded like an explosion, for the leaves and twigs constantly snapped under my footing.

"Almost there, baby. Almost. Just a little further," I soothed. I looked back and saw Garcia nod: her face showing her pain. My wounded leg screamed, but I pressed on. A road had to be close by, someone had to hear our voices. "You still with me Garcia?"

"You really think I'm going to leave?" she shouted. I almost laughed. My weary eyes spied a pond just up ahead and I could faintly make out a rising sun over the trees. I breathed a sigh of relief. If we didn't make it to a road before daylight, I was sure hikers would find us. I glanced back again at Garcia and decided we needed rest. I hurried her forward near a large boulder and sat her down.

"Thank merciful God," she whispered before keeling over into my lap. I tensed at first, thinking she was hurt, but only for a second. I shook my head and tried to relax. _She's just tired. Let her rest, there's no more danger now._ My arms wrapped around her sleeping frame, as if I could protect her from harm. My fingers found her cut marks and stroked them slowly. It wasn't until the video feed turned on at the BAU that I drifted into a dream-filled sleep.

...

"Guys! Hey GUYS! COME HERE _NOW_!" Reid yelled so loud to the team they came running.

"What? What Reid?" Hotch asked, but stopped when he saw the monitor on the wall and his jaw dropped.

"When the hell did this happen?" JJ practically screamed.

"Just a couple seconds ago-" Reid started.

"Oh my God, is that the un-sub?" Prentiss cried. Then realization showed in her eyes. "That's not Sam standing there. That's Ryan Walters." The team whirled around and squinted their eyes at the screen. "Sam's on the floor behind him," she finished.

"Looks like he had a partner," JJ said.

"How could we not see that?" Hotch asked. The team stood puzzled and shocked, all except Rossi, who was smiling. JJ frowned at him.

"What?"

"What don't you guys see?" he inquired. "Or, not see?" Reid stood up, a smile playing on his lips for the first time in a week.

"They're gone."

...

Garcia rolled over and fell off my lap.

"Hmmmmmmm," she groaned, sitting up. "Morning Love," she smiled and leaned over to peck my cheek. I inwardly groaned, wishing I could pull her to me and kiss her: without any interruptions or limitations. I sighed.

"Are you ready to move?" I asked cautiously. She nodded coyly and rose to her feet, pulling me with her.

"Absolutely Sugar." Her face was bright and I could see she had confidence in me to get us home safe. I reached out and took her frail hand, letting her pull me to my now steady feet. She moved to pull her hand away, but my grip tightened and held her hand fast. We started to walk out of the clearing, towards the faint sound of traffic. No words were said until we could clearly hear the cars buzz past in a frenzy.

"OK, we have to pick wisely. I am not letting us get into a car that will lead us to more danger. A minivan would be preferable. Usually means kids," I said.

"Remember when I said I hated profilers?" she asked. "Well, I change my mind." She leaned close to me and whispered, "I love them." Her lips grazed my neck and her hands cupped my cheeks. I immediately responded and captured my mouth with hers. I only pulled back because we needed to get back and have the team take that dead basterd away.

"Let's pick a car and get the hell out of here," I breathed into her hair. She agreed with her eyes and walked the final steps to the highway. We immerged from the trees and watched for a while before Garcia pointed to a red minivan approaching us.

"That one." I agreed and waved my arms frantically.

"Please! Help us! Please!" Gesturing at the woman in the car and jumping up and down. Garcia joined me after a minute and to my relief, the car stopped. The window closest to us rolled down and I could see a woman in her early twenties staring back at us with gorgeous green eyes. Her blonde hair was curled slightly at the tips and was neatly brushed down her slender back. To my displeasure, her face glowed when it landed on me.

"Can I help you two?" she asked politely, looking me up and down; liking what she saw. God, why _today?_I was used to getting this reaction from woman. It was really kind of annoying, but with Garcia next to me... It made it worse.

"Ahh, yes. I'm asking you to drive us to the BAU in Quantico, Virginia. Is that close by?" I tried to ask simply. _Please be close._

"Oh. Well Virginia is about thirty miles that way," she pointed to the right. "And Quantico is about an hour in. I'm actually not doing anything right now... I can drive you for sure," she said sweetly, batting her long lashes at me. _Great ._I felt Garcia stiffen at my side. _Damn._"You guys look..."

"Yeah. Listen, this might sound extremely bizarre..." I took out my FBI badge and the story continued on from there.

...

The BAU team was pacing the small room. "Do you think they're hurt? Or did they escape?" Reid asked.

"Until we know that, nothing is for sure," Rossi muttered. "Where are you?" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

...

"Wow. That is one hell of a story," our chauffeur said. Turns out, her name is Stella Turner and she has a degree in animal science. During our two hour drive Garcia and I told our story. There wasn't cell service where we were now, but I wasn't worried about calling the team. I was mostly concerned with Stella rolling her eyes at everything Garcia said and the fact that she stared lustfully at me the whole time. It was really disturbing. "So," Stella said reaching out towards my arm, "Are you _really_ FBI?" It took all I had not to throw up or bust out apologizing to Garcia, who was giving Stella the death stare.

"Yeah..." I mumbled, moving away from her touch. Why hadn't Garcia taken the front seat? I almost had her in it when Stella said it would be safer if I sat in the front because of her driving skills. But she was a perfect driver; not one mistake.

"How much longer?" Garcia asked quietly. Stella sighed and turned around.

"Well I don't _know_," she scoffed and returned her focus to me, but I had had enough.

"That's it," I said. Her brows creased.

"What?" she asked confused.

"Stop talking to her that way or I'm finding us another ride," I stated roughly. "I know you're married and have at least one kid, so why are you acting this way with me? Aren't mothers supposed to be paying attention to their driving and not making eyes at the stranger sitting next to them?" She sputtered and leaned away from me.

"How do you know that I'm married?" she questioned.

"You're wearing a wedding ring and you have a car large enough for five. You could just have a rich husband, but your clothes aren't very expensive so I'm leaning away from that option. This tells me you have a family." I motioned to the marks on her right hand. "Probably a child just learning to draw." Her mouth was still open when I said, "Knock it off, or I'm getting out." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. I glanced back at Garcia who was hardly containing her laughter.

"Just one question," she said rudely. "Why is a guy like you, traveling with a woman like _her_?" My hands balled into fist and I felt the urge to slap her. Turns out, I didn't need to.

"Listen you cheating... Something. I'm not just traveling with him, I'm going out with him. Not only that, but he tells me he loves me every day. I'm guessing by the way you're flirting with him _right in front of me_that you are cheating on your husband and that means you'll be divorced in three years tops. This leaves you without his money and totally screws up your perfect life. So the next time you talk to me, think about how you're going to apologize so I don't totally have to go up there and kick your ass. Got it?" Garcia's usually sparkling eyes were daggers piercing Stella's skin. The ride was deafeningly silent after that.

...

Hotch walked back into the conference room out of breath. "Well?" Rossi inquired. "Anything?"

"There are no reports of any 911 calls from an FBI agent or any reports of anyone seen on any highways within a hundred mile radius," he said grimly. "But on the up side, there no reports of any bodies found either."

...

Stella's shiny minivan rolled into a gas station twenty miles out from Quantico. She slammed open her car door and walked out into the humid air. I turned and faced Garcia. We stared at each other for ten seconds before we burst out laughing. In between fits of giggles we congratulated ourselves and talked of Stella's stunned face.

"You were amazing," I choked out. "I've never seen you so mad."

"You profiled her. I just let it out-" she stopped when the door flew open and Stella got in. She looked from me to Garcia.

"You don't have to sit up here. If you really care about her you should sit with her." I nodded and hopped out of the passenger seat. I slid onto the leather space next to Garcia and guided her head to my chest, closing my eyes. I saw Stella's eyes in the review mirror and smiled to her, saying thank you with my face. She pulled out of the gas station and started on the road.

"About fifteen more minutes," she told us when we got onto the road. My stomach did a summersault. I was finally going to see the team. I felt Garcia smile through my worn shirt and held her closer.

"Almost home," I told her and leaned down to kiss her the top of her head. "Almost home."

...

"OK, I've checked with all the local officers and none of them have gotten wind of anything," Hotch said. JJ walked back into the room, cheeks red.

"I finished the press conference and have the public looking for Ryan Walters," she said in a huff. Rossi looked at the monitor and watch Ryan pace the cell. He didn't remove his gaze until he heard Reid talking to him.

"Are you alright?" he asked, genuinely worried.

"I guess. This is just taking its toll," he told him. "There's nothing really more to do except stare at Mr. Walters and hope he blinks first."

...

When Garcia and I got within five minutes of home, I felt joy that I hadn't felt in a long time. Despite everything, I had saved Garcia and gotten us back. I was so lost in thought I didn't notice when we pulled into the parking lot of the BAU Headquarters. I shook Garcia.

"Hey Princess, we are home." She sat up and I could hear her heart beating furiously.

"Thank you," she told my ear and kissed me. I led her out of the car and took her had in mine. I turned to face Stella.

"We couldn't have done this without you. You saved us. I will always remember your willingness to help us." I let go of Garcia and extended my hand to hers. She took it and gently squeezed; nodding ever so slightly. Her gazed landed on Garcia and expected anger in her eyes, but only saw sorrow.

"I'm sorry to both of you," she said more to Garcia than to me. She nodded one last time and headed back to her car. I turned to face Garcia and a smile broke onto my face as we walked up the steps.

...

When we entered the BAU there was an eerie way about how everyone was working. Was everyone really trying to find us? We didn't get more than two feet before a woman in her forties screamed with happiness and dropped her files. I raised a finger to my lips, wanting to surprise the team and not really knowing why. We walked proudly to the conference and walked through the open door. Reid may have seen us first, but JJ was to us faster. Reid squealed and fell over while JJ rushed toward us. Prentiss right after her, hair flying. Hotch put his smiling face into his hands and walked to our open arms.

"Are you OK?"

"What happened?"

"I'm so sorry, when did you get back?" We were flooded with questions and hugs. Garcia was long past the point of a dry face and so were JJ and Prentiss.

"I'm so glad you are OK," JJ said. Everyone was smiling so hard I thought they would have those expressions permanently etched on their faces. Hotch snapped out of this first.

"We need to get you to the hospital. Morgan you leg can't feel good and Garcia looks like she has several broken bones," he said hurriedly. I raised my hand to object but was cut off. "No exceptions. Come on." The team led us out of the room, but before we left, I looked back. What I saw made me stop in my tracks; frozen.

"Morgan, what is it?" Garcia asked, but stopped talking when she saw what I did. "Oh my God. Who is that in the room with Sam?" The team grimaced and I guessed they already figured this out.

"That," Rossi said, speaking for the first time, "Would be Ryan Walters."

**A/N: Thanks for the amazing reviews! Please continue to R AND R!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A Twisted Sense Of Family

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or it's awesome characters and I never will.**

Riding in an ambulance is extremely unpleasant. The way the paramedics never tell you what's going on or how every person riding with you has an eerie calmness that you can't ever really understand. I had been denied the action of riding with Garcia and was cranky from all the people fussing over my leg. I gave one more attempt to get out of my situation. "It's fine! Just... Leave it alone," I whined desperately. It didn't matter what I said. "Just wrap it up and let me go," I tried again, but to no avail.

"I'm sorry," the woman closest to me said. "You have a bullet in your leg and several broken ribs. You need to go to the hospital." My eyebrows skyrocketed. _No, no, no, no, no! There is no way I'm going to a damn hospital._

"No! I'm not going anywhere without Garcia. You are going to let me out of this ambulance and personally escort me to her," I shouted. I flailed my arms and shook the people off me for two seconds before Hotch appeared in front of me.

"Morgan, you are going to the hospital and you will stay there until you are cleared to leave," his eyes fierce, but the corners of his mouth were turned up half a degree: giving him away.

…

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._I groaned; awoken from the sharp, constant noise of my pulse displayed on the monitor next to me. I reached above my head to stretch my arms. My hands flexed and tightened around the sheets, taking in their soft quality. "Garcia?" I called to no one. My voice must have carried down the hall because in the next few moments a nurse entered the room. She smiled at me, revealing perfect, bleached teeth and pushed her black hair behind her ears.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked politely. "Is there any pain in your leg or stomach?" I shook my head, but winced when she lightly touched the top of my thigh with her forefinger. She chuckled softly. "I see. I'll be right back with some pain killers." I started to panic. Pain killers meant more sleep, which equaled no Garcia. I straightened in my small bed.

"No! I'm fine, really. I think I need to get up." I was halfway out of bed when she firmly put her hand on my chest and pushed back. For someone so small, she sure was strong.

"I don't think so. I have been instructed to not let you leave this bed until you have been fully examined and are cleared to leave. No exceptions," she said. I cracked a smile. Hotch.

"Not even to use the restroom?" I asked questioningly. She cocked an eyebrow and considered. I waited and bit my lip in an attempt to look innocent. "Five minutes. No more. I'll be quick," I promised.

"Fine. I'll be right down the hall," she said, letting out a breath. She helped me out of my bed and carefully led me to the bathroom a couple doors down. On my way there I glanced in the other rooms; searching for Garcia. "Here we are. Five minutes." She turned and briskly strolled down the hall and entered a room, never looking back. As soon as she was out of site I ran down the corridor. Well, I ran as much I could in my current state. I was beginning to lose hope when I came to the third to last door. She was sitting in her room reading and every so often, longingly looking out the window. Her face was clear of make-up and her hair was neatly braided. Typical. I knocked on the door and she jumped. When she saw me her first reaction was joy, but she started to frown after a few moments. My heart sunk.

"Hey," I started. She continued to pout. Had I done something wrong?

"They let _you_out?" she yelled. My heart returned to its normal place and I laughed.

"Nope. I escaped; at least for a while. Nurse thinks I'm in the bathroom," I told her. Her lips turned up at the corners and she motioned for a hug. I crossed the room in record time and locked her into my embrace. "How are you doing? OK?"

"Yeah I'm great. I'd be better if they let me leave. Has the team visited you yet?" she asked, sitting up straighter. I could see the joy in her eyes and I shook my head.

"No. No they haven't come. They'll be here soon," I soothed. She nodded and bit her lip. I registered her thoughts before she opened her mouth.

"Would it be wrong to-" I cut her off with a kiss. I felt her smile into my face and snake her wrists to the back of my neck. My arms wrapped around her waist and gripped her middle. I was pressing myself into the curvature of her hips when my nurse came into the room; out of breath.

...

Ryan was pacing his living room. A storm raged outside and his hands were placed firmly over his ears. He was trying to block out his wife voice; something he had never been able to do. "I don't want to tell you again. Leave me _alone,"_he told his imagination. His wife. Susan.

"Ryan, all I want to know is why you did it? Why did you hire Sam to kill me? Why, love?" she asked, breathing into Ryan's neck. Her hands were stroking his sides and slipping under his shirt.

"You know why!" he screamed, pushing her away. "You know why I had to do it! I was saving you! You were living a life you didn't want anymore."

"That's not true," she insisted. "I loved my life! I loved you!" Susan started to turn around when he spoke.

"No. No, you loved him," he whispered. She stopped in her tracks. Her hair sashaying to the movements and her eyes met his.

"Ryan? What are you saying?" she asked innocently. His eyes flashed red.

"You KNOW what I'm saying. You were cheating on me with Adam! Don't deny it, I know!" he screeched. Her eyes went wide, but she didn't speak again. He waited before opening his mouth."You slept with him. I had to have Sam kill you because I couldn't live with it anymore!" Susan didn't say anything for so long Ryan thought she had gone. But he turned and saw her standing by the door; head in her hands. He saw lightning outside and wished he could run out the door, away from all of this. Away from her nagging and sorrow and stubbornness.

"That gives you a right to kill me," she whimpered. "But not to kill the kids. Why would you kill them too? They had their whole lives ahead of them." she asked. Tears where running down his cheeks and he wiped them with his sleeve.

"I didn't know he would kill them too! I didn't know. I didn't know," he said, as if he were trying to convince himself.

...

"There you are," my nurse exclaimed. "I figured you'd wandered off..." The words lost themselves when she saw us. I was still bent over Garcia. Her voice didn't stop Garcia from moaning. "Oh. Well... Sir?" she crossed the room and pulled on my forearm. I pretended it was the wind and held Garcia tighter. My hands slipping lower. "Excuse me? But, Sir? You really have to go back to your room," she pleaded with me. I didn't change anything about my position._"Just go away."_I begged her with my mind. "Sir, please return to your-"

"MORGAN!" Prentiss yelled from the doorway. I immediately broke my contact with Garcia and my eyes bore into Prentiss's face. A smile escaped me and Garcia squeaked. Leave it to Prentiss to ruin a moment.

"I'll leave you three to it," my nurse said with a small grin. "But I'll be back soon." Prentiss ran to us as soon as she had left and held onto me for dear life. I was losing air in seconds.

"I'm so happy to see you," she said through tears. I sighed and let go of Garcia. I wrapped my arms around Prentiss. It was then she realized two things: I wasn't in my hospital bed and Garcia and I had been kissing.

"Wait, were you guys just...?" she started. "No. You weren't..." Her mouth dropped open; shocked. "You were!" Garcia blushed and bit her lip again. "Oh this is _so_juicy..." I groaned. "Oh hush," she said to me. "It's about time. I mean come on, every time you're on the phone it's like you're having-"

"I would stop there if I was you," Garcia quipped. Prentiss held up her hands in defeat.

"Fine. The team is on their way and they are really excited to see you," Prentiss informed us. "In the mean time, do you think you're up to some questions?" Damn. I had tried to prepare myself for this, but I didn't have time to prepare Garcia. Before I could protest, Garcia spoke.

"Yes. Let's get this over with." Prentiss nodded and pulled up a chair. "OK. Do you remember anything about the place you stayed in?" she inquired and the drilling of questions began from there.

...

Ryan pulled into an empty parking lot just outside a restaurant. He had often come here with his family and was hoping it was as he remembered. He pulled in next to a red minivan and stalked toward the inviting entrance. Inside the place swarmed with families. Music played quietly and laughter drifted into his ears. He breathed in the smell of grease and window cleaner. He sat in a booth closest to the door. A waiter with neatly combed hair, an over the top smile and wearing a blue apron approached him.

"Good evening! Can I start you off with a drink?" he asked sincerely, handing him a menu.

" Just a water is fine, thanks," he grunted. The server nodded and retreated to the kitchen. His eyes scanned the crowded room in hope of finding something, anything, to satisfy his needs.

...

"That's enough Prentiss!" I boomed, making her jump in her chair. Garcia's eyes were glazed over and terror was hidden in her face.

"Alright," she said curtly. "I just thought you might want to catch this guy; after all he did to you." She rose sharply and exited the room.

"It's OK, baby. It's fine," I told her.

"No. I want to answer her questions. I need to catch him," she choked out.

"I know."

"No, you don't. You can't." My nurse lightly knocked on the door.

"Um, Morgan. Is it? I need you to come back to your room. Really. I can get security in here if you want," she said tiredly. I chuckled.

"I'm coming." I knelt to kiss her forehead. She melted to me and reached out, but I backed away; not wanting to get caught up again. My nurse nodded in thanks and took my hand, leading me back to my solitary room.

...

Ryan was about to leave the restaurant. The night had gone poorly; no one had met his standards. It was wasn't until he was halfway out the door that it hit him in the gut; literally.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" a young woman apologized. Her blonde hair was wild and her green eyes stared boldly into his. Her three kids had run past him out the door, knocking into him on their way out. "Really, are you OK?" He nodded.

"Yes. I'm fine miss," he answered timidly. "Actually, I was wondering, could you help me out with my car? I was just coming back in to see if I could get help. I think the battery ran out. Could... Could you give me a jump start?" She moved her head enthusiastically.

"Of course! Claire? Take your brothers and wait by the car," she called. "Where to?" she asked when she turned back to me.

...

"Alright!" my nurse said to me, glancing at her clip board. "You are..." she paused, checking the last thing off her official clipboard. "Free to go," she finished. I shot up out of my bed and took the clothes she had in her outstretched palms.

"Thank you," I muttered before limping off to the bathroom.

...

The sound of a crying family will forever be scolded to Ryan's heart. "Mommy! Please wake up!" Claire demanded. "Don't leave us alone!" The car hit a bump on the gravel road leading to a beautiful home, sending the children flying. Soft sobs escaped Simon and Peter, as Claire tried to comfort them. The car pulled over and Ryan roughly opened the door, grabbing Claire and holding her at knife point.

"Now listen," he drawled sweetly. "Come with me, and Claire lives." The frightened boys nodded furiously and hopped out of the truck. They followed him to the cellar outside dense woods and allowed Ryan to lock them inside the cage. He backed away from the door, went back to the car and brought the mother to the prison as well. Once all four of them were inside, he locked the door. "Don't worry. I'll move you up to the barn tomorrow."

"Who are they?" Susan asked once he had shut the door behind him. Ryan smiled.

"Our new family."

...

Garcia and I lay on her hospital bed, awaiting Prentiss's return. "You should apologize," she said. I looked at her, appalled. "She was just asking questions. I over reacted."

"No, she was too hard on-"

"You have to stop that. You can't keep protecting me if this is going to work. I need to work things out on my own." She caught my gaze and I bobbed my head.

"Fine. Maybe I was too harsh..."

"Maybe?" I chuckled. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you," I told her and enjoyed feeling her nestle closer.

"I love you too. Always have."

...

"Please! Let us out!" the mother screamed through the bars. The kids sat on the damp floor, and watched the spiders climb the dusty walls. It was eight in the morning and no one had come yet. "Please, just-" she was cut off by the door opening.

"I'm a comin'," he said smiling. "Morning love."

"Excuse me?" she snapped. The smile vanished from his face and he put a mask on over it. He pressed a button and the room filled with gas. The family coughed for thirty seconds before dropping on the cold floor. He carefully carried each person up to the small barn outside of the main house. He had spent the week before he captured the two agents with Sam, preparing. While Sam was off with their captives, he was miles away. Waiting for his own opportunity and constructing his plot. Ryan had to admit, he wouldn't have been able to do it without the knowledge that the couple that lived there never went into the barn. They had given him a place to hold this family. Even if the they didn't know it.

The barn now looked like a lived-in house. To the left was a kitchenette: complete with a stove, fridge, microwave and table surrounded by chairs. In the middle was a small living room with blue couch and a patterned rug that sat in front of a small TV. To the right was the bathroom. A divider guaranteed some privacy and behind it was a shower, toilet and sink with a mirror. You would have thought it was a normal house except for a minor flaw: the windows had been painted black.

He sat each of the kids in a chair and tied them to it, but he sat the mother on the coach. Now all he had to do was wait until they gained consciousness.

"How long are you going to keep them?" Susan asked, standing in the door way. He shrugged.

"As long as they can behave."

...

"Why can't you let me out yet?" Garcia whined to her nurse. "He gets to be out."

"Your injuries are far more serious. The earliest I'm letting you out is tomorrow morning. Try to get some rest," her nurse insisted.

"Thank you," I said to him as he was leaving. I turned to Garcia. "Sleep. I'll be right here." She let out a huge sigh.

"Fine." Just as her eyes closed Prentiss walked in.

"We have a problem." I rolled my eyes. _Of course_ we do.

...

"What? What's the problem?" I asked, not sure if I was ready for more bad news. Prentiss smiled nervously.

"A man called in saying he saw a man who fit Ryan's description at a diner fifty miles from here."

"_What_?" I almost yelled. She winced.

"It gets better. Or worse. The waiter saw him leave with a woman and her three kids." I brought my hand to my forehead and knelt to the floor. "I checked with missing persons and found that one family with that description was reported missing in the last twenty four hours by a man named... Ben Turner. He reported his wife and three kids missing at eleven o'clock last night." My eyes shot to Garcia's.

"Did you say... Turner?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"What was the name of the mother?"

"The kids were Claire, Peter and Simon Turner. The mother was... One sec... Stella Turner." I almost swallowed my tongue.

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and feed back! Keep it coming!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Story Begins

**A/N: I still don't own Criminal Minds and unless I win the lo0ttery and buy it, I don't think I ever will.**

_"Right over here miss. Can I ask your name?" he asked sweetly. Her footsteps slowed and came to a halt behind him._

_"Of course." She extended her hand. "It's Stella." He took it and nodded. "So, I've never really done this before. How do I-" she stopped talking when the mysterious man produced a glossy, black gun from his coat pocket. She started to back away and her eyes instinctively found her children."Please. What do you want? Money?" she pleaded. He chose not to reply._

_"Get in the car." She immediately obliged; holding her knees to her chest and waiting until he shut the door to look for a weapon. When she came up empty she started to panic. A shadow appeared on the window and the back opened again. She slid out and made it about two feet before he hit her over the head with the gun. On the ground, she could see her kids screaming, but the sounds she wished to make wouldn't leave her lips; she felt as if she were in a silent horror movie."Why doesn't anyone hear them?" she asked herself._

_"Please," she rasped._

_"Mommy!" Claire wailed and she watched him slap her in the face, leaving an angry, red handprint. Both boys were struggling to get out of the car and cried out when the man picked up Claire by the collar._

_"Don't you ever disrespect your father young lady. You hear me?" he yelled in her face. He didn't wait for an answer before throwing her in the back of the car. He knelt in front of Stella and lightly moved the hair out of her eyes. She felt his lips brush her cheek and recoiled in disgust._

_"Don't worry," he whispered. "Daddy's here."_

Stella turner awoke in a cold sweat, shaking with fear. Her eyes darted around the room in search of her children. She didn't have to look long. Her youngest, Peter, was still asleep and was resting on his brothers shoulder. Simon's eyes were wide but he looked respectably calm. Claire was the only one to have fear written all over her body. Then again, Claire was the only one who appeared to be hurt. Each child was strapped to the chair and had tape over their mouths. None of this surprised Stella except for the fact that they each were wearing different clothes than before. They weren't your typical six through twelve year old clothes either. They were the perfect all-American clothes you buy when you go on family vacations to Florida.

"Basterd..." she scowled quietly to herself. Then she wondered why she wasn't strapped down and didn't have tape over her mouth. She was loosely tied to a comfy couch. "It's OK, were all fine. No broken bones right?" she tried to tell them, but even if they could smile under the tape, she didn't think they did. Then she saw the blood. Claire moved just enough to make it visible under the blanket that was stretched across them. Claire pushed her arm out from under the cloth and showed her mother what was harshly carved into her tanned skin: _daughter._Stella's mouth dropped open and she nodded to Simon and Peter to show her their arms. Each had the word _son_etched into their forearms. She froze and slowly looked down at her own. It was difficult, as she was roped to the couch, but when she freed her arm she saw it. A tear fell from her eye and landed on the words; making a trail of blood down her body. She opened her dry mouth and mouthed, "Loving Wife."

...

My legs had started to go numb beneath me. Garcia's hospital room was becoming extremely crowded and I was ready to punch her doctor square in the face. Two hours ago he'd said, "Right back." Two hours ago he had told them to get their coats and wait by the door. But no. He still wasn't back yet. It surprised me that with everything going on, no one was saying anything. JJ and Prentiss were perched on either side of Garcia. Reid was sitting with Rossi and both seemed to be staring off into space. I got up and started to pace. Damn that doctor.

"Alrighty," a plump man with a thinning scalp said. "Sorry I kept you waiting so long. Let's see what we have here." He went over to Garcia and felt the places where her bones had been broken. After three minutes of inspection, trust me I was counting every second, he stepped back. "She good to go. No heavy weight lifting or vigorous exercise. Just take it easy for a few weeks."

"Thank you," I told him. He nodded and bustled out of the room.

"I have some clothes for you," JJ offered and handed the pile to Garcia. "Just a sweater and jeans. I know it might not be bizarre enough, but you're going home anyway."

"I am _so_ not going home," she told JJ, and before anyone could protest she walked into the bathroom attached to her room and shut the door timidly behind her.

...

The stomach grumbling smell of bacon and eggs seeped through every crack of the quiet house Ryan broke into. The house belonged to relatives of Sam's and he didn't think they would mind if he used their kitchen just this once. Ryan was humming to an old Beetles song as he happily made breakfast for his guests. Although, his humming would have been drowned out by his wife's nagging to any passing bystander.

"Ryan! Why did you have to bring the mother. Aren't I enough for you?" she screeched.

"Look, I couldn't kill her OK? I'm not that kind of person," he retorted.

"Sam was. Sam would have done it. Sam-"

"Stop that! I can do what I want with my family. I don't need you," he said bitterly, but regretted it at once.

"You don't need me huh? Well, do you need Lucy? Or Aiden or Jasper? Because I can take them away. I can make sure you never see them again."

...

"How long is she going to be in there?" I whined to anyone that would listen. A distant ripping sound came from the bathroom and I had had it. I reached up and pounded on the door.

"Garcia! Let's go!" I told her through the dense wood.

"Just a sec!" she called back. I groaned. How could any woman take that long in the bathroom?

"All I gave her was a blue sweater and jeans," JJ said defensively when my threatening gaze turned to her. There was another tearing sound followed by Garcia cursing. Ten seconds later the door opened. JJ dropped the files she was holding and stared in awe at what she saw. The boring blue top had transformed into a strapless dress; the arms tied into a bow at the front. The jeans had turned themselves into hand warmers and a pony holder. Her now brushed hair was pushed out of her eyes and her face was freshly scrubbed. She was a new person.

"Now _that_ is amazing," JJ said in shock.

"Ready to go?" she asked. I nodded, not surprised in the least. My arms wrapped around her frame without thinking and I pulled her close. Garcia blushed, but soon relaxed and walked normally with me. I could get used to this. I tried to ignore the knowing stare I was sure Prentiss was giving us and the shocked glare from JJ.

"Hotch is meeting us at the BAU to start narrowing the suspect pool," JJ informed us, snapping me back to reality.

...

The door leading to the Turners creaked open. Ryan stumbled into the room carrying a platter full of food to feed a small country and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. "I hope you slept well." No one moved and his smile faltered. "I don't even get a good morning? Oh, that's a disappointment." Stella's eyes sharply pierced those of her children and they understood.

"We're sorry. Good morning..." Claire hesitated, but complied when Stella urged her on. "Dad," she said wincing.

"Now, that wasn't so hard," he said pinching her cheek. He then stood in front of Stella. "And how is my lovely wife doing this fine morning?" She spit in his face. She had planned on being nice and loving, but his attitude repulsed her. He slowly wiped the saliva from his chin and slapped her. "You will never disobey me like that again. You hear me?" he yelled. Stella did nothing.

"Sir, can we please go home?" Peter asked, not thinking. Ryan turned to him. "Can we at least talk to our dad?" Rage immerged from the darkest place on Ryan's face.

"I'm right here, son," he said, shaking it off. Peter didn't respond. "What?" he questioned. "You think I'm not your real father?" No one moved. "I'll show you," he said to them. "I'll show you."

...

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" I asked Garcia for the twelfth time. "I mean, you could need me-"

"Stop. I'm just fine," she insisted. "I mean, I could use someone's help with the tech stuff, but not with anything else."

"I can get Hotch to get someone up here in fifteen minutes."

"I already told him I could use an extra pair of hands. He said he'd send someone over." I nodded.

"Well, I could get you a -"

"No."

"Fine. I'm just a phone call away if you need anything-"

"Leave Derek." She motioned for me to shut the door, but I defied her and strided confidently into the room, locking her lips with mine. She was resistant at first, but she gave in after awhile. I backed her up against the wall and felt her shiver from my body pressed against hers. One leg wrapped around me and I pressed myself harder into her. I heard myself moan and was making my way up her shirt when there was a light tap on the door.

"Um, sorry, I was told that a Penelope Garcia requested to be assisted?" a stocky man said standing in the doorway. His clothing choices were outrageous and his shoes were two sizes too big at least. His dorky glasses blended in with the rest of him as he set his- I'm guessing empty- briefcase onto the desk next to him. This man looked more like a nineteen year old boy, but at the same time made Garcia and I jump apart, embarrassed. For this man, this ludicrous looking being, was non-other than Kevin Lynch.

...

Ryan Walters was on a mission when he stepped out of his car on a cheery street known as Washington Drive. It was after eleven and all the neighborhood kids were inside and most of the lights were off in the houses. Ryan stepped onto the curb and rounded the corner leading up to the second house on the quaint road. He saw a bicycle in front and a sandbox off to the side. He smiled to himself. This was the place.

He took out his crowbar and quietly inserted it between the door and the siding. He pushed gently, not wanting to disturb the peace and the door swung open. Unopened mail was piled high on the counter; an empty take-out container was positioned in front of the TV and it didn't look like any cleaning had been done for days. He silently set his cow bar on the couch and glided up the carpeted stairs.

When he reached the top, he heard the shower on and slinked into the bathroom. He took out his gun and pointed it at the curtain, flinging it back. He had almost pulled the trigger when he noticed no one was in the shower. He was about to turn, but it was too late; a man caught him from behind, pushing him to the ground, causing him to drop the gun.

"Who are you?" he shouted, enraged. The man picked up the chair he had brought as a weapon and struck it down on Ryan. He howled. He brought it down again, but Ryan rolled out of the way, picking up his gun. He turned and fired three shots, all hitting dead center on the heart.

...

Kevin was bright red as he watched me and Penelope jump apart. We both hastened to smooth our clothes and Garcia coughed. I smirked, but inside I was cringing. I didn't like the idea at all of them spending more time together.

"Kevin!" Garcia trilled. "What the hell are you _doing_ here?"

"I'm sorry, I was told by Agent Hotchner to repot here at once," he told us innocently. "I'm sorry... I'll just... I'm sorry..." he said backing out of the room. I turned to Garcia.

"Hotch sent _him_? Of all people he had to chose the man I loathe and _despise_..." she ranted. Now I smirked for real, at least she hated him.

"Hey, it's fine. I can stay, if you want."

"No no. I can handle Kevin, I just don't know if he can handle me," she said, looking as if she was about to cry. What? Wasn't Garcia the one who broke up with him? And, who in their right minds couldn't handle _Penelope?_

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Well, I really gave it to him when we broke up. I said some really bad... Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, Kevin said some stuff back. I'm pretty sure he meant it," she choked out. I lifted her chin with my finger.

"Hey, he won't try anything. You know why?" I teased her.

"No. Why?" she asked, intrigued.

"Because he just saw us kissing. That means he knows that if he hurts your feelings or tries anything with you, he has me to answer to. Better yet, he knows it. You're safe." She cracked a small smile.

"That's true..."

"Yeah, it is. Now let's catch Ryan Walters."

...

Ryan was in the process of driving Ben Turner's body to a shallow ravine he once played in as a child. The night was cool and a light wind came every once in awhile. He pulled over next to a picnic bench and took out the golf bag he had used to put every last piece of Ben Turner into. After he shot him, he took out his knife and severed every limb at the joint. So, with his bag of thirteen pieces, he headed down the slope leading to jagged rocks below. There he carefully laid the body parts side by side. Every so often he would hear a car rush past and he would cower behind the rocks.

When the sun began to rise he took his golf bag and headed back up to his car. Truthfully, he was sorry he did it, but he knew he would have to kill the man eventually. Now the children would have to call him their father. As he strapped himself into the car and slowly pulled away from the dump site, his hand grazed the golf bag. The bag was black, so you couldn't see the blood that had dried during the processes. His car smelled of bleach because he had used that to clean the bathroom after the murder; he didn't want any more evidence than necessary to be given to the investigators.

As his car arrived back at the barn, he took the bag and carried it with him. He walked through the large door and threw the bag at Stella, who caught it with surprise.

"What's this?" she asked. Seconds later her face twisted; she smelled the blood and bleach.

"Open it," he told her, excited for her reaction. "Think of this as a present and an offering of peace. I'm sure you'll thank me one day for it." Stella's eyebrows furrowed. She reached for the zipper and cautiously opened the bag, unearthing the foul smell to them all. She reached in and felt something soft and sticky. She recoiled her hand, repulsed, and screamed when she saw the blood.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Go on. Take it out. It probably wasn't necessary to give this to you, but I figured you'd need proof." She paused, but eventually reached in again, feeling the eyes of her kids on her. She picked up the foreign object and brought it into the light. Shrieks rang out through the night when the family realized what the killer had done, what he had brought them. The head of their dead father fell to the floor, making a sickening noise. The killer only laughed. "I knew you'd like it."

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and the support. Please give me ideas for the next chapter (more twists and turns?) and, of course, R AND R!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The Stupidity of Others

**A/N: ****Recently, I realized a flaw to my plot line and went back to chapter nine to fix this. I changed some things, so if chapters ten or eleven don't make sense, it's because of my changes (changes are in paragraph when I describe the cell and the one after that. Near the end.) Sorry for the inconvenience!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot. **

Nothing. The word itself is disappointing. Empty. It's what we found at Ryan Walter's cabin. A whole lot of nothing. Sure, we found Sam's body, but we didn't find the family or Ryan. Even though none of us were supposed to expect we would find them here, everyone had; though no one would admit it. The CSI was already checking for DNA and samples when we arrived. Not that that was going to do any good.

"Find anything?" I yelled from outside the small room. No way was I going back in there. I hadn't even allowed Garcia to come.

"Nothing substantial or significant," several voices called back. I ran a hand over my scalp. Where could they have gone? I mean, where else is there?

...

"Please! Somebody help us!" Stella called from the barn. Night was upon them and no sounds could be heard except the pointless screams. "We're here! We need help!"

"Mommy," Peter whispered from his chair. "Please stop yelling." Stella's face softened instantly and the world once again became quiet.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Go back to sleep," she soothed, cursing herself inside. "_I have to remain calm," _she thought. Even though it felt like midnight, it actually was closer to eight. All of a sudden, the lights in the barn flickered to life. Stella stiffened and her eyes searched the room. Ryan strode into the room and walked over to her.

"Good evening, Princess," he said to her. "How would you like a tour of your new home?" No one moved, but this didn't stop him. "Come on, you'll love what I've done to the place." He knelt and took out his pocket knife. He untied her rope and grasped his hand firmly on her arm, then set his knife on the table. As soon as she was untied, she kneed him in the groin. He had expected this and lunged for her legs. "Are you really going to make me kill you in front of your kids?" he asked once he caught her. She stopped. "That's what I thought. Come with me."

...

The car ride back to the BAU was filled with information that no one understood or was listening to. The only words anyone really heard were the ones delivered by Hotch,

"We reconvene back in the conference room to go over everything we know. Let's start from scratch."

...

Up until this point, Ryan Walters has showed he is exceptionally smart. He has the charm and looks to lure woman where he wants them to, capture them, and hold them for several days. His plans have been meticulously thought out and executed. He has never made one mistake or been outsmarted by anyone. Maybe that confidence was what caused him to forget the item that would ruin him. Maybe, it's how not all of the Turners escaped that barn alive.

...

"Let's start at the beginning," Hotch started. "We profiled Sam to be well educated and brought up. He uses his confidence to take control of his woman. He is not one to rush into things and he thinks out every detail down to the weather. He like to torture his victims, clearly sadistic," he said, glancing hesitantly at me. "He doesn't take trophies, so he relies solely on his memory to help him relive his crimes over and over."

"He requires complete control over the situation," I quipped. "He went so far as to even change Garcia's clothes." Several eyes looked up at that statement, but I ignored them.

"Yet, he has a partner. Why?" Prentiss asked. "And how does this family in California fit into this mix of things?" The phone rang and I jumped on it.

"Garcia?"

"Yes, handsome, it's yours truly and she comes with fantastic news."

"Spill," I said.

"So, I looked up Sam and cross checked every one of his activities, purchases, and tiny lifestyle choice with Ryan. I discovered they met at an alcohol support group that they each started in 1996 and continued to 1997. After that, Ryan got married and moved to California when he had his daughter Lucy in 1999."

"That's great, but how does that help us?" Reid asked.

"I was just getting to that. Ryan invited Sam to the wedding. Then for two years there's nothing, until 2001 when Sam get arrested for statutory rape. Ryan visited him every day for a year and a half, when he got out early due to good behavior."

"So they developed a relationship, gained trust..." I trailed off.

"Oh, I'm not done yet Sugar. They must have gained a lot of trust because the day before Susan Walters and her kids were murdered, Ryan Walters made a generous withdrawal from West Central Bank in California and an hour later, Sam Davis deposited the amount Ryan withdrew."

"Oh," Prentiss said. "Do you think Ryan hired Sam to kill his family?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Well, that's how the family comes into play," Rossi stated.

"Thanks Garcia," Hotch told her.

"You are most welcome my liege. Chow."

"That makes sense now," I said.

"Moving on," Hotch said briskly. "Ryan. He's not the dominant character of the two. He submissive to Sam, willing to do whatever he says."

"So why take this family? What significance do they have to him? And why so soon after Sam dies?" Prentiss asked. "Morgan, Stella drove you guys back. Is there a similarity?" I thought. The only way I could see them overlapping is... I snapped my fingers.

"Stella has three kids! One daughter and two boys! Her looks are similar to Ryan's wife. What if..." I said excitedly.

"He's made himself a new family," the team finished for me.

...

In the moments before Stella left the barn and walked with Ryan up to the couple's house, she made eye contact with her children. In those brief seconds, she told them a whole story. She was making a sacrifice for them; she needed them to understand. So, when Claire nodded, she allowed Ryan to lead her out of that room and towards the dark house. As soon as the door was shut Claire lunged for it; almost knocking herself out of her chair. She slowly scooted over to the table next to the couch and grasped the cold metal in her hands. He maneuvered the already open pocket knife across the rope and severed the bonds. She was out of her chair in a few minutes. She wanted to run to find her mother, to save her from what that awful man was doing with her. But she knew that wouldn't work. So, without more than a moment's hesitation, she started to cut her brothers free.

...

Ryan was nervous as he led Stella up to the house. He hoped the people that lived here wouldn't be to mad if they used their house a little. Sam had said his parents were on vacation and wouldn't be back until Sunday of next week. It was only Friday. He thought as long as he cleaned up and they didn't notice, he was safe. When they reached the front steps, he groped in his pocket for the keys, then unlocked the door. He was about to put them back in his pants when he realized what he had done. He dropped the keys on the porch. His eyes sprang open and he jerked Stella back towards the barn; realizing his first mistake while making his second.

...

"So, where do we go from here?" I asked, eager to move on. My eyes lids drooped closed as I said this. Hotch chuckled.

"We need rest. Everyone go home and we can start fresh tomorrow. No exceptions," he added when I put up a hand in protest. I lowered my palm and sighed.

...

Ryan yanked open the large, splintering door to the barn and was knocked off his feet by the three kids that ran in his direction. He fell to the ground and once again searched his pocket for his gun. He knew he only needed to get one of the kids for all of them to come back. His hand jutted out and caught one of the boys by the ankle. He cried out.

"Peter!" Stella screamed and ran back, Simon holding onto her hand. Claire was out of ear shot and was sprinting to the car. Her hair was flying in all directions and her blue eyes wide with fright. Ryan pushed the three family members back into the barn and turned to see Claire changing directions before she reached the car. She sprinted to the house. She saw the keys and Ryan cursed himself out loud, running faster towards her. He could hear the yells from Stella in the barn and slowed only a fraction of a second to turn his head. When he turned back, Claire was in the truck and finally looked up for her family. When she didn't see them and she only saw Ryan, she had to make a choice. The choice that would ultimately save her and no one else.

...

I knocked on the door to Garcia's office, so tired I could have slept right there. "Garcia?" I called, not much louder than a whisper. "Hey, Baby Girl? You in there?" I heard her clicking away on the computer. I winced. I had forgotten. That could be Kevin. I knocked again. I didn't want to startle her. She was so easy to scare when she was working on something. I was about to go in when I heard,

"I respond to Fair Lady and Your Highness as well." I snickered and opened the door. Kevin and Garcia were both deep in thought. The difference was, Garcia was still able to connect outside of her head when she was thinking; Kevin could not. "Hey." she said, eyes never leaving the screen. I put my hand on her shoulder.

"Hotch says it's time to call it a night. Start off well-rested in the morning."

"What? But, we haven't caught him yet! We need to-" I put a finger on her lips.

"In the morning. Get some sleep."

"Derek, I can't go to sleep." Damn nightmares.

"Well it's not like you're going to be alone. I'm going with you." Both Kevin and Garcia stopped working. "What? The killer is still out there and she's in immediate danger," I said more to Kevin than to Garcia. She sighed.

"I knew you would say that." She got up, collected her purse and made her way over to the door. "Let's go." She turned to Kevin. "I'll see you in the morning." Then left without another word. I raised my brows and shook my head.

"Alright then."

...

Ryan ran into the barn out of breath. Stella was backed into the far corner with the boys behind her.

"Where's Claire?" she asked, not wanting to get her hopes up. He turned to her.

"Gone." A smile erupted on Stella's face. A smile bigger than every smile she had ever worn on her face in her life. That smile turned to giggles then to laughter. Soon, Stella was guffawing on the floor, tears coming out of her eyes.

...

Claire had more adrenaline pumping in her system than most cliff divers. She was twelve years old, driving a car sixty down a highway. She was trying to get as far as she could without crashing and didn't want to go to fast in case she did crash. Half of her wanted to turn around, but she knew that would do no good. She had to get back so she could help the officers looking for them. Ryan had put duck tape on the address sign in front, but she had been able to make out two of the numbers: seven and eight. She was sure they were the last two numbers in the address. A car to her left honked at her. She didn't know what to do, so she honked back. The person in the car gave her the finger and sped up, never noticing her age.

By the time she had made it five miles, she was weighing her options. She could drives recklessly and try to get pulled over so the cop would help her, or she could stop all together. She didn't want to stop so close to the house; she didn't know if the man that took her had another car and was chasing her. Plus, she didn't want to risk getting into a car full of the wrong people. She made her decision. After looking thirty seconds for the blinker, she put it on. Then she pushed the speed limit by ten miles and zigzagged in and out of every lane. "_Enjoy yourself," _she thought. "_This is the last time you can do this without getting into trouble."_

She was starting to think there were no cops in the area when finally, after ten straight minutes of law breaking, she heard sirens behind her. She almost screamed with joy and pulled to a jerky stop. When a cop appeared at her window, his eyes widened in surprise. His mustache was trying to make him look older, but all his cuts from shaving just made him look more inexperienced. He was wearing strong cologne that made her want to gag.

"Excuse me, ma'm? May I ask how old you are?"

"Look officer, I'm Claire Turner, you are probably looking for my fam-"

"How old are you?" he interrupted. She frowned; lowering her eyes to his blue uniform, embarrassed. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

"You... You don't understand. My family was kidnapped and I was trying to get pulled over so I could get someone to help me. I just escaped-"

"Look, miss. I've heard this all before. How _old_ are you?" he persisted. He had heard this all before? _Really?_

"Twelve." He coughed.

"I'm going to ask you to come with me."

"Please would you just-"

"Hey. I'll call the chief when we get back and clarify your story. But I'm still taking you in." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

...

Ryan was in a blur. He had everything packed and had the family in the trunk. He was traveling light and his whole plan depended on his uncle's hot wiring lessons. He didn't have another car, so he was stealing Sam's parent's car. It was small, and wouldn't attract attention. Perfect. He got in the car. It only took him three minutes to get the engine to turn on, and exit the driveway.

...

"Agent Hotchner, is it?" a police officer asked. It was late, after the team had gone home.

"Yes?"

"I have a twelve year old girl here, says her name is Claire? She says she was driving the car badly so I would pull her over and that her family has been kidnapped," he scoffed. "The nerve of some people. Anyway, I promised I tell you-"

"Where is she?"

"She over there, why? "

"She's not lying."

"Oh..." the officer said, but he said it to Hotch's back as he jogged down the hallway.

...

Ryan was sad about the reason he was coming to park. It was pitch black and no one was in sight. He always said he would come back here, even for a moment. It was one of his favorite memories; playing here. He shook those thought from his strangled mind and he knelt to kiss Stella's forehead. He was sorry it had to end this way, but Claire was sure to make it back. They would find him. So as he turned his back on the people that would send him prison, he said a silent apology; for killing the Turners really hadn't been part of his plan.

...

Garcia and I had the most uneventful night in history. Once we got back to her house, we collapsed on each other. Her bed suddenly became the softest thing on the planet and my eyelids became the heaviest. It was five in the morning when I heard the sound of torture calling. I picked up my cell phone and knew right away who it was. I must admit though, I had expected Hotch to say they figured out where the family was or that they had found another body. I hadn't, not in a million years, expected him to tell me Claire Turner was at the BAU.

**A:N: I am so sorry for the delay. I knew exactly what I wanted to write, but couldn't figure out how to put it on paper. Thanks for the reviews and wonderful feedback! Please R AND R!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Public Dump Sites

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or the characters.**

**A/N: Although the story feels like it's going well so far, I am asking for your opinions on whether or not I should end the story sooner rather than later. I have more ideas and ways that the story can go, but am not sure if I should stop early. Please review!**

"Claire? Would it be alright if I asked you a few questions?" I asked tentatively. As soon as she heard my voice, she recoiled in her chair. JJ had gotten her cleaned up and brought her clothes from her house. Her hair was brushed and braided down her slender back. "It's OK," I told her, kneeling on the ground. I was going to ask her again when she answered.

"Sure. That's fine," she said quietly. I nodded and pulled up a chair. She flinched. This was going to be harder than I thought. I put my hand on her arm.

"Just relax," I said, when she tensed. "All I need to know right now is where your mother and brothers are. That's all." Her eyes lit up, like this was something she knew she could answer.

"I don't know exactly where we were. He kept us in a barn. Outside the barn, there was a house and beyond that was an underground cellar; like for tornados I think." Her eyes glazed over and I put my hand up.

"OK, OK. That's good. Did you ever see an address or something that stood out?" I asked.

"He had the address covered with tape, but I'm pretty sure the last two numbers were seven and eight." My pulse raced and I stood up. "Does that help?"

"Yes. That helps a lot. Prentiss!" I called and she jogged over. "Stay with her, I have to call Garcia."

"Got it," she said. I moved to the hallway and took out my phone. Ten seconds later Garcia picked up and before she could say anything, I blurted,

"Garcia, run the numbers seven and eight in with the highway number the police officer gave Hotch. Call me when you get it." I was about to hang up when I heard a polite, yet adorable scoff.

"Ex_cuse_ me? Were you about to _hang up_ on me?" I laughed. "Hey! No laughing! What is _up?"_

_ " Is that Morgan?"_ I heard Kevin ask in the background. "_What does _he_ want?"_

"Shut up Kevin," Garcia told him. "Sorry, go on."

_ "_ Just... Claire is... I don't know," I said.

"Depressed? Lonely? Family-deprived?"

"_Not to mention all alone in the world with nowhere to go," _Kevin said.

"Yeah, that," I told to Garcia, trying to ignore Kevin.

"Sorry I'm being snappy. Just covering up for my own instability," she said, ignoring Kevin as well.

"You know you could say anything to me and I wouldn't care. I'd just beg you for more."

_"Oh, come on. This isn't happening. I'm leaving," _Kevin called. I heard Kevin stand and the faint click of the door shutting behind him.

"Just keep saying that..." she said sweetly.

"Just call me back when you get the-"

"Got it. It's flying your way now. Bye." I flipped my phone shut and ran back through the glass doors. Once inside, I opened up the message and found that the address was 5478 Frost. I yelled out loud. Oh, this was just getting better and better.

...

"I'm glad you got rid of them Ryan. They weren't good enough for us," Susan told Ryan rather loudly. "I mean, the mother didn't even-"

"STOP talking. Stop." He turned around to face her falsely sweet eyes. "You. Are. Dead." His kids chose then to appear. He gestured wildly to them. "So are they! You all are!" He pulled on his hair and his temple throbbed. He screamed in rage and the car he was currently driving veered off course.

"We all love you Ryan, come on. Let us be a family again." She extended her perfect hand to touch his shoulder. "Ryan, please..."

"Yeah daddy, please." Their voices sounded as sweet as caramel.

"See that? We miss you."

"This is insane," Ryan said. He reached into the compartment next to him and took out a silver revolver. "I'm giving you another chance. Leave. Now."

"Oh come _on_ sweetie. We all know you would never-" her words were cut short by him cocking the weapon and aiming it at his youngest.

"You aren't here with me," he said slowly, enunciating every word. "It won't matter if I kill you." Susan folded her arms across her chest.

"I dare you," she whispered menacingly. Ryan pulled the trigger before she could scream.

...

"Let's go," Hotch ordered, as we stood outside Sam's parent's house. I could see them both standing on their porch, watching the agents come out of their house and walk over to the barn and swarm their cellar. "Morgan," Hotch prompted. I turned and braced myself. I brought up my leg and kicked the door open. We entered the barn and spread out. After a few minutes of searching, we concluded that no one was here. The barn looked like a small house and there was blood on the floor.

"Damn it," I said to myself.

...

"Can I get you anything? A sandwich or some water?" I asked Claire. I had gotten back a few minutes ago, and went straight to Claire. We were about to get to the part I hated most, the part no one wants to ever talk about: what actually happened. "I know this is hard, but can you tell me what happened? It will help us find your family."

"You don't know that. They could be dead or they could be wishing they were right now." I opened my mouth to say something but she continued before I could. "While I'm here, being offered a sandwich and water." I cringed. A twelve year old shouldn't be this mature, should have to ever say those words. Then again, no man should ever take victims to his best friends parent's house to kill them either.

"We will find your family. I promise." I knew it was risky to say, but I felt so bad... She didn't respond. "I understand this is difficult, but if you don't help us, we won't ever know."

...

"Hello, this is the FBI tip-line. How can I help you?" JJ said professionally.

"Yes, I've found a body off highway 56 near a rest stop."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes, I'm a mortician. I know a dead body when I see one."

"Ma'm, stay where you are. I'm sending our agents out now." JJ put her hand over the ear piece on the phone and yelled deafeningly down the hall.

"Morgan! Get Hotch and Rossi!"

...

Ryan was pacing in his motel room. He had known the bullet wouldn't kill her, but he couldn't deny how great it had felt to actually shoot her. Why on earth had he hired Sam to kill his wife? Why hadn't he given himself the pleasure of shooting her himself? He spun around and knocked the lamp off the table. He tore at his hair and in five minutes his room looked as if a stampede of horses, a twister, and eight furious drunken men had had a party. When he had calmed down, he flopped on his bed; exhausted.

"What are you doing?" Susan asked and he almost jumped out of his skin. She smirked. "You didn't think you were going to get rid of me that easily, did you?"

...

Dozens of cop cars surrounded Ben Turner's body. I had been here for an hour and was already ordered by Hotch to leave.

"It's late, Morgan. You should go home," Hotch told me.

"_What? _No. I'm staying," I protested. I didn't care that the only sleep I had last night wasn't for more than three hours and occurred just under a day ago.

"Morgan, I need you fresh in the morning."

"I'm not letting Garcia go home alone."

"Fine. We won't need her again tonight. Take her home. Sleep. At least five hours. Go," he said when I almost protested again. I relented; I'm not that stupid.

...

When I arrived, Kevin had just sat down in his chair.

"Are you kidding me?" he said rudely. What is with him? I made no attempt at being friendly and walked immediately to Penelope.

"Hotch has _ordered _us to get some sleep," I said tiredly.

"_Really_?" Kevin almost shouted. I clenched my jaw.

"What is your problem?" I asked, turning on him. He shrunk back and quieted instantly. "So," I said, turning back to the one I didn't want to strangle, "Ready?" She shrugged.

"Sure. I'm starting to forget what sleep feels like."

"Hmm. You and me both."

...

Sometimes, the only way to escape your fears is to run. To run farther than you have ever dared to run. To run so hard and so fast that you feel as if your legs will explode. That is exactly what Ryan was doing now. He had started at dawn and was still running at eleven at night. Stopping only once to eat at a diner. Sweat streamed down his face and his hair felt like gel had been applied several times. The only thing Ryan cared about was escaping his wife. His bossy, nagging, cheating, awful wife. He had to escape her, and to do so, he had to escape from himself.

...

It felt like forever before Garcia finally unlocked the door to her apartment. I almost took the keys from her and opened it myself. She kept missing the hole, she was so tired. I swung open the door and pulled her inside. She groaned and stumbled into the couch.

"Hey hey carefully," I told her. "You made it this far, you can make it to your bed." I strode over to the couch and started to make it up.

"Are you sure you are fine with sleeping on the couch? I could take it tonight-"

"Shush. Don't make me argue with you this late." I continued to pull the comforter over the soft cushions.

"Well, what if-" Without looking at her, I put my hand over her mouth .

"Will you just go to sleep?" She sighed, defeated.

"Fine. Fine. But when you get a bad back, don't you even think about blaming it on me." With that, she turned and stomped into her room. I threw my hands up in the air.

"Penelope!" I moved into her room. She was laying on the bed, eyes closed.

"What?" she asked, eyes still shut. I didn't answer, I just went over and sat on the mattress, then rested my head against the pillows.

"You know, I could just sleep here." She snorted, but shifted closer and nestled next to me. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Smart man."

...

"His head was _what_?" JJ screeched when Hotch told the rest of the team the details of Ben Turner's death.

"Decapitated. Gone," Reid clarified for her.

"Lovely..." Prentiss said sarcastically.

"As I suspected, there was no DNA evidence. Even if there was, it would have been contaminated by the rain. He was found in a low ditch, surrounded by water," Rossi mumbled.

"But why?" Reid asked. "Why would he suddenly decide to kill Stella's husband?"

"Maybe he felt jealous," JJ suggested.

"Jealous?" Prentiss asked.

"Yeah. Stella could have talked about him. Could have said he was better than Sam. This could have made him jealous or upset."

"So where does that leave us?" Rossi said. Hotch took a deep breath.

"I have no idea."

...

Garcia's eyes were closed. Somehow in the night, she had positioned her body to be facing away from me. I heard her mutter something quietly and she tossed in the sheets. It was after six, and it was time for us to get back to work. How was Hotch doing it? He hadn't slept in thirty-six hours and I had accumulated eight hours over the two days. He needed to be relieved. I sat up, but was yanked back down by Garcia's hand.

"Where are you going?" she tried to say through her sleep coated voice.

"Hotch needs a break. I guarantee you he didn't sleep last night."

"Or the night before," she answered.

"No, not then either." I rose from the bed and felt the black evade the corners of my vision. I shook my head to free myself from it, then grabbed some fresh clothes from my go-bag and walked into the bathroom. I heard my phone ring from the bathroom and Garcia picked it up on the second tone.

"Hello, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan, how can I be of service?" The corners of my lips turned up. "OK sweetie, calm down. Claire, listen to me. It's going to be alright. You're fine. He's on his way. Can you stay on the line with me?" More silence. I started to panic. I shoved the remainder of my clothes on my body and dashed out of the bathroom.

"What happened?" She scrunched up her nose and tears started to build on the corners of her eyes.

"Hold on a second. I'll be right back." She pressed the hold button on my phone and put her head in her hands. "It was all for nothing."

"What do you mean? What has happened?"

"They found Claire's family in a park just a few miles from here. The team said they would tell her everything. Claire only had your number, so she called you. I don't think she believed they would fill her in. She knew you would." I squeezed my lids shut. Damn.

...

So they found them. About time. They weren't that well hidden and he was surprised they hadn't been found faster. When Ryan finally came to his over-all destination, he found several officers and agents surrounding the Turner family. He hid in the trees just beyond the swing set and watched silently from between the branches. He watched as they checked for evidence, violating her in the process. She didn't deserve to be treated like that. He groaned and hugged his arms to his stomach. He shook his head. It was time.

...

"They said they found them at a park?" Prentiss questioned.

"Yes, just outside the playground, there are trees on either side. They were discovered three days after they were killed," JJ said. I groaned.

"So, when I told Claire that we would find her parents alive, they were dead. That's comforting," I said.

...

Ryan entered the diner with a look of confidence about him. He took a booth in the middle of the room where he could still see everything and not look suspicious. A waitress approached him and gave him a heart-warming smile. Her shirt read "Forever Irish." Her hair was fire red and she looked taller than him.

"What can I get you?"

"Just a water, please." She nodded sweetly.

"Comin' right up." Once she left, his eyes wandered in the well lit room. He saw several families, yet, none appealed to him. It wasn't until the exact moment the waitress returned with his water that she entered the restaurant. He could see the wedding ring sparkle on her finger, and her stomach was protruding; he'd say she was eight or nine months pregnant. Her hair was light and natural, her face was free of globs of makeup. She looked as if she needed a good night's sleep. His face glowed and he whispered,

"She's perfect."

"What's that dear?" his waitress asked. He blinked innocently.

"Nothing. I didn't say a thing."

...

I arrived back from the crime scene and walked over to where I left Claire with Prentiss two hours ago. Prentiss was gone, but Claire was there with Garcia, playing some sort of computer game. When I got to them, Claire looked up and half smiled at me. It was a start. I sat down before speaking.

"You doing OK?" I asked her. Her eyes dropped to her lap, as if she couldn't believe someone else cared about her.

"I guess," she whispered. Garcia glanced at me and clicked a button on her game.

"I'll be right back, alright?" Claire bobbed her head and Garcia walked with me down the hall.

"What's going to happen to her?" she asked me. Hotch had said she had some grandparents that lived in Vermont that were flying in today.

"She has some grandparents coming in..." Garcia's face stopped me. "What?"

"I don't want her going with those people," she stated bluntly.

"What? Why not?"

"I looked them up. The father has several DUI charges and has been reported for violent disturbances numerous times."

"They deserve to-"

"A fourth of which were in the last month. The wife just got out of the hospital for a broken rib and over the years she has suffered the injuries of..." she paused while she took out a list. "A broken leg, arm, her nose was broken twice, a concussion, and this is the third time she has had a broken rib. There is no way I'm letting her go with those people." She was right, and I knew it. My eyes met hers. She looked so worn down and defeated.

"I'll talk to Hotch. Your right. I can't let her go with them either," I said. I took her hand to lead her back to Claire, but she grabbed my neck to kiss me. I'm glad she made the first move, because I couldn't have done it in front of those cops. The kiss was slow and deliberate, just right for this moment. I heard someone walk up.

"I'm not asking you to stop, I'm just telling Morgan that Claire is ready for your questions," Prentiss said from behind us. I muttered something that even I didn't understand, in her direction.

"Riiiight," she said. "Got it. I'll talk to her. But you owe me."

...

The sun was setting on the diner and Ryan rose from his seat. The woman was still sipping her coffee, waiting for her credit card to come back. Ryan took this as an opportunity. He walked outside the diner and retrieved his pocket knife from his coat. He took out his sharpest knife and knelt to the tires of the car he had seen the woman glance at several times while she was eating. He struck his knife into the tire and heard the whoosh of air come out from the rubber. Then he waited until she opened the door to put on his best 'worried' face.

"Excuse me, miss?" I said to the woman.

"Yes?"

"Is that your car?"

"Um, yeah. It is."

"It has a flat tire," he said apologetically. Her brows rose and she leaned over to inspect.

"It does. Thanks for letting me know." She took out her phone, presumably to call a tow truck.

"I have a spare tire in my car." She stopped.

"You do?"

"Yeah sure, I can fix your car now." She smiled.

"Thank you so much. That would be a great help. Do you want me to help you grab it?"

"I can get the tire, if you grab my tool box that would be great," Ryan told her and much to his pleasure, she believed every word.

**A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to update over the summer since I'm going to be gone for several weeks at cabins and camps. Please be patient with me! Please R AND R!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Alleged Tramatization

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.**

**A/N: I am so excited for this chapter! I just thought of something new and I'm really looking forward to writing it. Thanks for the fabulous reviews :D**

"How could this happen?" Agent Greene boomed into Hotch's face. Brave man.

"This is my team, and it's my decision whether or not a member can participate in a case," Hotch retorted, just as loudly. They continued to argue heatedly while briskly walking down the hallway. I was paying only half of my attention towards them; the other was on pouring my coffee.

"That's where you are wrong, Agent Hotchner, I am the head of this case and you were invited to California. Just because you leave my headquarters, doesn't mean I can't dismiss you from the case. Two of your team members are unfit for duty and I want them relieved form this investigation," he said. "Today." He pivoted to move on down the corridor, but Hotch's hand came down on his shoulder. I could almost feel the tension in the room. I put cream into my cup and swirled it around with a spoon. I took a sip.

"This is not your territory. If I don't have a technical analyst," I choked on my coffee, "Or one of my field members, we won't be able to function as smoothly as we could. We certainly won't find the un-sub any faster. "So I suggest you let us do our jobs." What the hell? Agent Greene narrowed his eyes.

"Let me make this simple for y-"Agent Greene began.

"No, let me explain something to _you_, I-"Hotch was saying, but was interrupted. Correction: Greene was a _very _brave man.

"Dismiss Agent Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia from this case, or I will dismiss _all_ of you." That's when I dropped my coffee. He walked away without another word.

...

"I'm sorry, we just returned from a vacation. We didn't know he would be keeping people here. We... We didn't even really know him," Mrs. Davis said quietly. JJ nodded.

"I understand," she said. "I'm so sorry for your loss." She looked at the Davis's once more, before heading back over to the crime scene. She peered into the barn and saw Hotch and Prentiss were already inside. Prentiss was bent over examining a few of the kitchen tools that were laying out; Rossi, some sort of chairs in the center of the room. Hotch was looking at the only picture in the barn. It was of Sam and his family.

"Is someone else looking at-"

"The cellar about a hundred feet away? Yes. CSI has it covered," Prentiss said, looking away from the kitchen utensils. "Everyone is doing their job." JJ sat down on one of the chairs Rossi was looking at.

"I wouldn't sit there if I was you..." he said to her. JJ frowned, but soon she gasped and stood up; backing away from her seat.

"Oh my God... That's where... That's..." She glanced at Rossi for support, but he only cringed. JJ made a gagging noise and slowly slipped out of the room, her hand lingering on the door.

...

Ryan's stolen car hit a nasty bump on the road. Music played loudly in the vehicle, as if it was trying to drown out the thunder outside. The music could not, however, quiet the desperate screams of Lily Whittman. As he listened to her pounding her now bloody fists on the hood of the car, he thought of his options. A hotel was out; it would be difficult to get Lily in and out. He could stay in the car, but soon that would grow uncomfortable. He did have another option, yet he wanted to use this as a last resort. He hadn't been there since the day he turned eighteen.

To say Ryan's childhood was tragic would be an understatement. His parents were killed by a drunk driver when he was twelve; he had been home alone at the time. He didn't have any sober or living relatives, so the only option was a foster home. His foster mother was Maggie Moore and his father, Gary Moore. But they weren't the worst part. Even though they hit him when they were angry and they made him sleep in the car if he cried, the worst part by far, was a fifteen year old boy named Zale Hokins. Zale was the house bully, but Ryan used bully for a lack of a better word. He really was more the house Nazi, but in his own unique way. See Zale didn't harass Ryan directly or hurt him physically. He did things to Maggie and Gary and then blamed it on Ryan. He told them that Ryan gave them food poisoning, resulting in no food for three days. He said that he dumped a bucket of water on their bed, which equaled a near death by drowning in their molding bathtub. He even told them it was _Ryan _who caused the rodent problem and he didn't want to repeat what they had to him. Each trick it got worse and by the time Ryan left that home, he had scars to remember his past.

A few years back, one of the kids told the police about Zale and the Moore's. There was an investigation and the house was condemned. When Ryan heard about this, he had mixed feelings. He often thought about going back to confront the Moore's, something he never did. Now it would be hard to find them.

Ryan sometimes thought of how his life would be if his parents hadn't died and he'd grown up with them, in their blue house on Raymond Avenue. Lying in the sun and petting their dog. He certainly wouldn't have met Susan or had his kids. He couldn't decide if this was a bad thing. He would kick himself each time he thought about this, knowing that with each half-hearted wish, he cut himself farther off from reality.

...

I stood awestruck, coffee dripping from my hand. I didn't even hear the mug shatter. Agent Greene was _dismissing _us from the case? I must have heard wrong. My mouth was still open when Hotch ushered me into his office. I sat down and waited while he brought Garcia in a few minutes later.

"What's this about, sir?" she asked, as confused as I was.

"Agent Greene has asked that you sit out for the remainder of this case," he told us. Shock crossed her face.

"_Why?_" she wondered. "What have we done?"

"He feels that you suffered a traumatic experience-"

"We did! We were kidnapped, starved, beaten, and-"

"That's his point. He thinks anyone that has gone through that will put the team at risk when it comes to helping in the investigation. He thinks you will make rash and impulsive mistakes or decisions."

"Hotch, this is ridiculous!" I exclaimed. He nodded.

"I fought him on it, but in the end, this is his case and we can't afford to have the entire team dismissed," he said, defeated. I sighed.

"Can I talk to him?" I asked. Hotch hesitated.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"But Hotch maybe I-"

"No. I don't want to anger him further. I'm sorry to have to do this, but please give me your badges and your gun." I was so angry I wanted to shout at Hotch, stopping only when I reminded myself this wasn't his fault. I reluctantly retrieved my badge and gun and set them on the table. Garcia took out her badge and laid it next to mine. "Thank you. I'm sorry, again," he said and with that, he rose and retreated from the room, leaving us alone. We were too stunned to say anything immediately, but once the idea settled in our minds, we spoke.

"How dare he..." she said sadly.

"I'm so sorry... There's nothing we can-"

"How dare he take away the opportunity for us to catch the man that did this to us?" She wasn't speaking to me, but to herself and this scared me because I didn't want her close off from the world. From me. I put my hand on her knee, but she pushed it off. "No," she said. That one word was all it took to break my heart.

...

"I'm sorry if your ride up was uncomfortable. I really am Lily," Ryan said softly to Lily Whittman and he carried her gently up to his old foster home. When they reached the door, he noticed the sign was still up that claimed that this house was unfit to live in. The door was locked, but he was assuming that when being thrown out of their home, the Moore's hadn't said anything about a spare key. He carefully put the sedated Lily on the ground and jogged over to the far side of the house. He counted the bricks down from the window and finally rested his hand on the thirteenth brick. He took out his pocket knife and wedged it into the house. The brick came loose and he reached his hand into the hollow block. He pulled out a rusted key and ran back over to Lily.

In the time he had gotten the key, she had figured out that she was without supervision. She had made it into a standing position and was making her way down the drive way, wobbling the whole way. Ryan chuckled and made his way to her.

"Hey there, where are you going?'" He took her hand and led her back up to the house. He continued to hold her hand until they were inside and he got her tied to a chair in the living room. "There you go. Better?" She groaned and closed her eyes; giving into the blackness that was haunting the corners of her vision.

...

Cameras flashed and microphones were jabbed in JJ's direction as she told the eager reporters the latest news on what they were now calling 'The Family Man'. Creative. Once she had given the press the details of the case, she then directed her attention to the women of the area.

"We believe this man is capturing families through the mothers and we are expressing extreme caution to women who travel alone at night or are ever without someone you trust in the evenings. Also, if anyone knows the whereabouts of Ryan Walters, or recognizes this man," she held up a photo of Ryan, "Please call our hotline so we can stop anymore people from being killed. Thank you for your time." She backed away from the crowd and headed back inside the building. The Turner's being found dead had certainly caused the pressure of finding Ryan to intensify.

"Hey Hotch, where's Morgan? I have to ask him about-" she stopped when she saw he wasn't listening. "Hotch?" His eyes snapped from the floor to her face.

"I apologize. Gather everyone in the conference room. I'm about to throw you all a curve ball." She nodded and scampered off to find the team. Once she had Reid, Prentiss and Rossi, Hotch told them to come in.

"But what about..." she started.

"That's what I'm about to tell you. Agent Greene has suspended Morgan and Garcia from this case because he feel their experience has caused them to be bias," he told them gruffly.

"Statistically, it's just as likely that their experience will benefit us rather than harm us. It's funny, in the 1800's-" Reid began.

"That's great Reid," Rossi said, quieting him.

"So what are we supposed to do now?" Prentiss asked, worried. To that, Hotch had no answer.

...

"Well Kevin, this is your lucky day. You get to take over for me," Garcia told Kevin when we went back to her office to grab her things.

"What?" he asked, surprised. "Why?"

"I don't really have time to explain this to you, but I was suspended from the investigation because I might not be objective when working this case. Goodbye Kevin," she said.

"But how-" he was going to ask, but we were already out the door.

...

"Please... Let me go home. I promise I won't tell anyone about you. I promise!" Lily screamed to Ryan. "Please, I have a son. His birthday is Tuesday. Please don't let him celebrate it without me." Tears were rolling out of her swollen eyes and he almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

"Hey there. It's OK. You'll love it here."

"No..." she cried. Rage boiled in him. He had risked everything for her and she was spitting it back in his face. He hit her across the cheek.

"How dare you disrespect me?" he boomed. "I am trying to be a good husband and you are insulting my efforts!" As he said these words, something in Lily broke. She knew what she had to do: it didn't mean she had to like it.

...

Being yelled at by a crying twelve year old is the worst feeling the world. Being told you are a lair and they hate you is worse. Being slapped across the face doesn't even hurt as much as the words. Before Garcia and I left, I told Hotch I wanted to tell Claire about her family. I said she trusted me the most and she would take it better if she heard it from me. I was sorely mistaken. Our conversation went something like this:

_ "Claire? Come sit over here," I said sweetly. She smiled a little and came over to the chair I had pulled up for her."Claire... I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this..." I was, but I wasn't. I truly thought she would be OK. After everything that had happened, she had hardly shed a tear. I was confident she would work through this. "Claire, we found the bodies of your mother and brothers. I am so sorry for-" But I never got to finish. Her eyes went wide._

_ "What?" I grimaced. "But... You said you had this whole department looking for them. You said we would find them alive. You promised me!" she yelled._

_ "Claire I am so deeply-"_

_ 'No! You _promised_ me. You did! You said we would find them alive! You said everything would be fine! This isn't fine!" she was screaming. Tears were boiling behind her rage and spilled over when I pulled her into an embrace. She hugged me fiercely. I hadn't gotten to the worst part._

_ "Claire. We also found your father..." I trailed off. She backed away from me in horror. I opened my mouth but closed it abruptly when she slapped me. _

_ "No... No, no, no, no..." She knelt to her knees and sobbed. By then JJ came over to us. "He promised," she told her. "He promised! He lied to me! He did!" She was fighting for air and JJ took her hand._

_ "I know he did sweetie. I'm so sorry." JJ pulled her close and I could see the tears soak into her sweater. _

_ "I hate you!" she shrieked. I turned away. _

I shook myself out from the memory. Garcia was changing into fresh clothes after her shower. I still hadn't gotten her to talk to me. I heard the bathroom door open and she came out in bright pink sweatpants and loose shirt. She plopped down on her couch next to me and I dared myself to look at her. Her eyes were sad and stormy and her lips looked like they would be pouting the rest of their lives. I could change that. I went for her hand. She gave it to me right away, surprisingly.

"Are you upset with me?" I asked. She looked at me, horrified.

"No! Of course not! Just... Upset in general. I'm not mad at you, I swear." I narrowed my eyes. I didn't believe her.

"Prove it," I said, daring her with my eyes. She just shrugged, as if that was going to be easy and pressed herself against me. The kiss made the only light I had left in me grow until it was bursting from my finger tips. I pulled her closer, perhaps too roughly, but she didn't mind. She was gentle, as if she was waiting for my permission. Well, I was going to give it to her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she clung onto my hair. Suddenly, Garcia's eyes flew open and she pushed herself off me.

"Oh..." she said.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked. She smiled wide and paused for suspense.

"I have a_ brilliant_ idea."

**A/N: ****Starting on June 29, I will be leaving for a seventeen day canoe trip. Following that, I will be going to a friend's cabin. Then, I will be home for one day (this will involve Olympic packing skills) and I will be leaving the next day for a week long excursion at my own cabin. I have absolutely no idea when I will update next and I DESPISE it when authors I enjoys do this. I will try to update before the 29, but I must pack for that trip and be up at my cabin before hand for a family gathering. In other words, expect no new chapters for a very long time. Sorry! On a happier note, thank you soooo much for the reviews! Keep it up!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Defying the Higher Power

**Disclaimer: I'm sorry to say I can't take credit for this genius.**

**A/N: I have three words to say to whom it may concern: I. AM. BACK. For one day at least. But, it means a new chapter and luckily, I had seventeen days to think it over. Enjoy!**

"Derek! Stay with me! Come on! Keep your eyes open!" I felt desperate hands put pressure on my stomach and winced when I cracked my lids. The world seemed incredibly bright and I immediately closed my eyes again. "Morgan stop that!" I realized it was Garcia screaming my name and once again forced myself to look at her. He hair clung to her forehead by sweat and her clothes were covered in blood. Her eyes were wide and frantic, but I didn't see any of that. All I saw was the blood on her hands. My blood. Almost hers. I shut my tired eyes again. She slapped me across the face. I groaned. "They are almost here! Help is coming. Talk to me!"

"I..." I couldn't form the words. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the pain in my mid-section. I screamed. She grimaced but pressed on.

"Morgan! Talk to me about your family. Your sisters!" she yelled. I felt the blood rushing from my wound and realized then that I was going to die. People don't survive injuries like this unless they get immediate medical attention; something I didn't have.

"Garcia, I need to tell you something. You need to know how I feel about you. You need to know-" She slapped me again.

"You can tell me when you're out of the hospital. You can tell me when..." Tears left her eyes and landed on my face. I shook my head.

"Penelope." She hesitated but didn't speak. I continued. "You are the light in my world."

I closed my eyes.

...

_Two Days Before_

"No. Absolutely not," I told her and she laughed.

"Oh, _come on_," she sighed, exasperated. "You know you want to..." I grinned. The truth was, I did. Going behind Agent Greene's back as well as Hotch's, appealed to me. I _wanted _to continue with this case. Prove we weren't 'traumatized'. I didn't let her know this as I sat down on her couch, watching the moon drift behind the clouds.

"Let's say we did do this... Where would we start?"

"Well, it would mostly be my project. I would look deep into Ryan's past and find a place he might have gone in his childhood or even as an adult. I'll make a list of all the possibilities and we can check them out. Simple as that." She smiled, proud of her plan.

"Just one problem," I told her. Her eyebrows raised. "What the hell are we going to do with Kevin?"

...

Lily's fingernails scraped what was left of the food from her dinner off of the dishes. She enveloped her hands in the soapy water and was aware of Ryan's eyes on her back.

"So... Did I do a good job with dinner?" she asked. A smile erupted on his face.

"It was delicious. Couldn't have done a better job myself," he told her, genuinely happy. Lily did a small smile and stacked the plates neatly on the counter. It was dark outside and nothing could be heard in the house but Ryan's ragged breath and the sloshing of water. Lily's feet were chained together, but her hands were free from any bonds.

"It would have been easier to make if you had let me use a knife." Ryan's smile fell off his face.

"It would have been_ easier_?" he growled. Lily cursed herself silently. She wished she would just stay quiet. She turned and clumsily sat in his lap, putting her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm glad you liked it," she whispered, her voice shaking in his ear, praying for forgiveness. He loosened his grip on the table and relaxed into her. He took her hand and stood her up. She followed him obediently as he led her up the stairs, into the bedroom, and watched him shut the door behind them.

...

Thank God Garcia's office was located before the main room. I don't think we could have made it past everyone and come up with a liable excuse for being there. Good thing we didn't try either, because Agent Greene was in the middle of it all, speaking with Reid.

"I don't care about the percentage of people that die from toxins each year. It has no relevance to the case," he shouted at him.

"Actually sir, it does have some relevance since we're-" He stopped talking because Agent Greene had left the room. I was boiling inside. I wanted to go tell _him _that... I trailed off because Garcia had pulled me down the hallway.

"That selfish, arrogant-"

"Morgan. Deep. Breaths," she said. I nodded.

"So... What exactly is the plan?" I asked as we approached her office. She didn't say anything. When we reached her door, she rummaged in her bag and came up with a one of those things you stick in a computer to input information. A flash something?

"_This _is the plan," she said slyly. She threw open the door and ushered me inside and I closed it behind us. Kevin looked up from his work and gasped. He reached for a button on the phone but Garcia slammed her hand onto his. He yelped in pain. "Listen to me, Kevin."

"I was given direct orders from Agent Hotchner to alert him if you came back without his permission," he stammered and he stood up. I took a step forward and him a step back. Garcia pulled up two chairs.

"Sit down." He sat. "Now, here is how things are going to go. You are going to stay and help us find out who did this. If someone calls, you are to answer and do work as usual. If you say anything of us, I will take this," she held up the device, "and put it into your home computer." He shrieked. He began to talk unintelligently.

"That's a... T-that's a... A..." he choked out and she nodded.

"I know what it is. Do we understand each other?" she asked. And to my great surprise, he agreed to our ridiculous little plan.

...

When the sun rose, it was Lily who awoke first. Ryan lay sleeping next to her, his arm across her chest. Her heart started to beat rapidly and she gently moved his arm away from her. She slid out of the covers and grabbed his shirt that lay on the ground. She opened the door and drifted down the hall, avoiding all the creaks and moans of the old house. When she made it to the kitchen, she was running. Grabbing a knife along the way, she considered going back upstairs to kill him. If she got away, but he found her in the end, this would all be a waste and he would lock down the house more securely next time. There would be no way for her to escape. She decided it was the only way and she turned, ready to make it back upstairs. She took it step by step and when she made it to the bedroom he was still asleep. She breathed a sigh of relief and took a confident stride forward.

"This is for Connor," she mouthed. She aimed to stab him in the back, but changed her mind in the last second and stabbed him in the leg. She twisted the knife and he let loose a scream to wake the dead. She took it out and stabbed his lower back, twisting the knife. Blood soaked the sheets and her hands and she took out the knife. She ran down the stairs towards freedom. Near the bottom, she tripped and fell. This would have been fine, seen as Ryan was so far behind her, if she hadn't fallen squarely on her weapon.

...

Garcia's fingers were a blur as she searched Ryan's background, every so often she would write something down and I would look over her shoulder to read it. So far she had:

_ Apartment he leased in1996. 5520 Rose._

_ His old friend George Hansen's house. Realtor. 1600 Gove Park._

Both of those seemed unlikely to me. I took my attention from her and focused on Kevin. When my eyes met his, he looked away and resumed his work. I kept thinking I heard someone coming and would rise to go in the closet like we planned and each time Garcia would laugh and say I worried too much. That the only person usually came into the room was me. The phone ringing didn't help. I jumped in my seat and Kevin scrambled to the phone.

"Hello, this is Kevin," he squeaked when he answered. Garcia pressed the speaker button.

"Hey Kevin, it's Prentiss. I was told to inform you that a Lily Whittman was reported missing just over twenty for hours ago. She has family just like the others and she matches the description." Garcia almost gasped, but my hand shot out and covered her mouth. "Hotch wants us moving as quickly as possible and wants me to get an update. Have you found a place he could have taken another victim perhaps?" He paused and I pointed to our list.

"I have two possibilities you could look at." I could almost hear the surprise in her reply.

"Great. Let's hear it."

"He leased an apartment in 1996. That's 5520 Rose Ave. And he has a friend at 1600 Gove Park. He used to be his realtor."

"That's great Kevin, I'll tell Hotch. Good work."

"Thanks you... Agent Prentiss." They both paused.

" Kevin? Have you heard anything from Morgan or Garcia? I'm really worried about them," she asked. Kevin opened his mouth and Garcia took out the computer thing again, waving it in his face. It didn't faze him.

"Actually, Garcia came by with Morgan earlier this morning to pick up some things. They were fine," he said, looking at us.

"Oh, that's great. I just feel really bad about them not being on the case. Even Hotch is disappointed. But, as long as they're fine. Someone will call back to tell you how it went. Thanks again." She hung up and we all took a deep breath. Then we remembered Ryan had taken someone else and Garcia's fingers were once again a blur of action.

...

Lily woke up in Ryan's bed, a bandage tied around her stomach; soaked through with blood. It was dark again and her body was covered with sweat. She felt sick. She looked next to her and saw a note, written in a messy scrawl.

_Lily,_

_ I've gone to the hospital. I think I'm going to live, but we will talk when I return. There is water on the bedside table along with fruit. Hope you feel better._

_ Love, Ryan._

Lily felt a great weight lifted off her shoulders for two reasons. She would act on the first now, she was unsupervised. She sat up, but was hit with not only pain, but the clinking of chains. Her eyes opened for real now and she saw her arms were the only thing free. Her feet were chained to the bed and well as her waist.

"Goddamn it," she cried. She calmed herself and said she probably had a few days to figure this out. Then she remembered the second reason she was happy. She had seen the news with Ryan. Everyone knew his face. Someone had to recognize him. Hope emanated from her body and wrapped itself around her in a warm greeting.

...

It was about five in the afternoon when Garcia found it. We had looked all night and through the day and I was starting to lose hope. Buried in his past, his childhood home. Apparently, that part of his life had been covered because of the lawsuit that condemned the home. That didn't make much sense to me, but we had an address and that's all I cared about. This had to be the place. But, because I didn't have a gun, we couldn't go right away. It was Garcia who thought of how to get one.

"It will be easy," she had said. Turns out, it was. Reid agreed to our plan in the end, though he took some convincing.

"I don't understand why you need my gun Morgan! You're likely to shoot someone with it," he had told me. I rolled my eyes. Exactly.

"Reid, I just need it for the day. All you have to do is not tell Hotch. I'm giving you the address to where we're going, in case we don't come back." He nodded and I walked away.

That was four hours ago.

...

Ryan pulled up in his car and flinched when he jerked to a stop. He had only been gone two days because he insisted he had to leave and the hospital was relucant in letting him go. He finally managed to sneak out after dark. He now had two bandages covering his wounds, and he had to say he was relieved. He couldn't believe no one recognized him. Although, Susan had told him not to go.

"They'll arrest you Ryan! You're all over the news," she'd screeched. Luckily, he was getting better at turning her out. Lily was helping him in a lot of ways.

"Lily!" he called up to her. "I'm home. All stitched up!" He heard an intake of breath in response and he chuckled. Where he entered her room, she was just as he left her. She seemed surprised to see him.

"I... I'm so glad you're back!" she said.

"Me too."

...

"Hey, Mary..." a surgeon asked. His name was Jim Neus.

"Hmmmm?" she said, distracted. It was late, and the hospital was the only thing alive for miles. Doctors hustled by and new patients were brought in. The lights never turned off.

"Who was the man in room twelve?" he asked nervously. She looked up and blinked.

"What do you mean who _was_ he? He's still here! Had two stab wounds!" she told him. His eyes widened.

"I think we _may _have a problem."

...

We pulled into the driveway after midnight, and only one light was still on. I took out Reid's gun and started the argument I knew I was going to lose with Garcia.

"Stay here." As soon as I said it, she refused. "Please, for me. You don't have a weapon and it was be hard for me to protect you when trying to save the hostage."

"Morgan, I don't know what you've got in your mind right now, but it's pointless to try to keep me here. It really is." She opened her door, but I reached across and shut it.

"I know. I had to try." She nodded and tried to open the door again. She frowned when I didn't move. We sat that way for a long time, watching each other and waiting for the other to move. In the end, I moved first. Pressing her lips to mine, I locked her in that position, my mouth fierce. I chuckled to myself at her smell. She hadn't slept in thirty-six hours and she still smelled like vanilla. When I pulled away, she looked sad. "What?"

"Do you think something is going to happen?" I looked at her and answered as honestly as I could, without telling her that I, in fact, _did._

"I have no idea."

...

"Who the hell runs this place?" Prentiss screamed at the closest surgeon. Hotch couldn't blame her, but he told her to try to be civil.

"I need to speak to the people he came in contact with," Hotch told the secretary.

"I can't believe this," JJ groaned. "He came in here, _used his real name_, and no one recognized him? Not one person knew who he was? I thought the people who worked in hospitals were smarter than average!" she told the nearest nurse, who promptly ran away. "Hell, I thought _he_ was smart, why wouldn't he use a different name?"

"Insurance," Reid told her.

"What were his injuries?" asked Rossi.

"Two stab wounds; one in the lower back and one in the leg. Can't believe he survived," Mary Yale told them. "Jim Neus operated on him. He's over there. He already made his statement."

"Do you have any idea where he's going or where he came from?" Hotch asked.

"He said he was staying at his parents' house." He nodded and she walked away.

"I remember from the report, he didn't have parents. He lived in a foster home," Reid said. It was then, in the following two seconds, that realization dawned on them.

...

I gave Garcia a crowbar that I'd found out back. We were both at the entrance to the house and I was telling her my terms once more. I think, to my satisfaction, I was really irritating her.

"After I find them, call the team. I'll get Lily out of there and you stay out of sight," I told her.

"Got it, got it," she grumbled. I twisted the doorknob and pushed it open lightly. We walked through the kitchen and I pointed the phone out to Garcia. I stayed to watch her dial the number, but felt my heart sink when she spoke.

"The lines disconnected," she said. Damn. Our cell phones didn't have service so I was relying on this to get the team. I looked at her.

"Stay out of sight." I left the room and walked upstairs. I heard voices and pointed my gun at the door. "Ryan Walters! Come out of your hands raised!" I waited for five seconds. I heard a crash and I kicked open the door. Ryan had Lily chained to the bed and a gun pointed at my head.

...

"Almost there, turn left at the next exit," Reid told Hotch.

"Great, Reid? I'm going to need you to come inside with me and Prentiss. The others will patrol the outside," Hotch said. Reid grimaced. "What?"

"Well..." he started.

"What, Reid?"

"I don't have my gun," he said, wincing.

"Excuse me?" Prentiss yelled from the front seat.

"I gave it to Morgan. He said he and Garcia knew where they needed to go and that they would call when they got there. I'm sorry!" he pleaded. Hotch ignored him.

"How long ago?"

"Eight hours, forty seven minutes and-" he glanced at his watch, "Sixteen seconds."

"Damn."

...

I was aware of two things and I only saw one. I heard myself speaking to Ryan, trying to get him to let Lily go. He started shouting to someone next to him, calling her Susan. I talked with him for three minutes and almost had him, I felt his grip on the gun loosening, when Garcia entered the room. Observation number one. The next came with Ryan firing at Garcia, dead center and me diving in the way, dropping my gun.

"Derek! Stay with me! Come on! Keep your eyes open!" I felt desperate hands put pressure on my stomach and winced when I cracked my lids. The world seemed incredibly bright and I immediately closed my eyes again. "Morgan stop that!" I realized it was Garcia screaming my name and once again forced myself to look at her. He hair clung to her forehead by sweat and her clothes were covered in blood. Her eyes were wide and frantic, but I didn't see any of that. All I saw was the blood on her hands. My blood. Almost hers. I shut my tired eyes again. She slapped me across the face. I groaned. "They are almost here! Help is coming. Talk to me!"

"I..." I couldn't form the words. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the pain in my mid-section. I screamed. She grimaced but pressed on.

"Morgan! Talk to me about your family. Your sisters!" she yelled. I felt the blood rushing from my wound and realized then that I was going to die. People don't survive injuries like this unless they get immediate medical attention; something I didn't have.

"Garcia, I need to tell you something. You need to know how I feel about you. You need to know-" She slapped me again.

"You can tell me when you're out of the hospital. You can tell me when..." Tears left her eyes and landed on my face. I shook my head.

"Penelope." She hesitated but didn't speak. I continued. "You are the light in my world."

I closed my eyes.

**A/N: So, a couple things. I am leaving for a trip tomorrow, but I probably with have a computer. It may be possible for an update to occur while I am gone, though I'm making no promises. Next, I am wondering if I should do a sequel (I have a plan for one if it happens) and I want opinions on that. Thanks so much for the reviews! **


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Stolen Bullets and a Little Luck

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.**

**A/N: This, I think, one of the last chapters. Wrapping it up is going to be tricky, but I have one more idea. I'm still not sure if I should do a sequel and **_**really **_**want your opinions. Hopefully this one leaves you with an open mouth.**

Footsteps could be heard on the stairs as three agents scrambled up the polished steps toward us. When the door opened it revealed Agents Rossi, Prentiss, and Hotchner. All of their weapons were raised and trained on where they thought Ryan would be. It was Hotch who spoke first after laying eyes on me. Garcia still clung to me, pressing on the wound.

"Prentiss call for the paramedics and get Garcia downstairs," he said. Prentiss prodded Garcia, but she wouldn't let go.

"I'm not leaving!" she screamed. "He's, he's..."

"He's going to be fine," Prentiss soothed. "Come downstairs. Please. I got him. An ambulance is coming." Prentiss led her out of the room. Hotch came over by me and started to do what Garcia had been doing. I have no idea how long this went on, but when he stopped the medics were surrounding me. Hotch jogged over to Lily and knelt by the bed.

"Lily, where is Ryan?" She didn't respond. I would have told him myself, but I was having trouble breathing. When Lily didn't respond, he asked again. The last thing I heard before leaving the room was Lily rasping,

"He's gone."

...

Charge, 100," a gruff doctor shouted over the chaos.

"Clear," another said, pressing the machine to the lifeless body.

"Nothing," the voice said.

"Charge, 200."

"Clear." Once again the cold metal tried miserably to shock life into the heart.

"Nothing."

"Charge, 300," he said. Desperate.

"Clear." His shoulders sagged visibly beneath his uniform. A crowd had formed around them and it was hard to make out his reply over the sobs.

"Nothing."

"Charge..." he started.

"Doctor, he's dead."

"Charge, 400," the doctor prompted, but the other just shook his head.

"No!" a woman shouted. "Keep trying, he's still there!" The paramedic shook his head, but the doctor moved into position again.

"Charge, 400!" he said, pressing the plates to his chest. All was quiet. Then, over the woman's screams, a faint heartbeat rose above the noise.

...

"Derek Morgan?" a man said to the sea of people.

"Yes?" JJ said in reply. The whole team stood up, awaiting the doctors report. When they had been able to recover Morgan's heart beat at the crime scene, he'd been rushed to the hospital and was operated on immediately.

"The bullet went in his rib cage and was a few centimeters over from the heart. We would have been able to save him without incident if we had gotten to him sooner. He almost died from the blood loss, but I was told pressure was put on the wound and this saved his life. I suggest you go home. You will be able to visit him in the morning. He going to recover just fine." They nodded and he turned to report to the other families the fate of their relatives and friends. Once he was gone, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, I need to get back to see that Claire get's off with her grandparents all right, but the rest of you may either go home, or stay here. It would be nice of one of you stayed to make sure he isn't alone when he wakes," Hotch said. Garcia stood up and met Hotch as he was turning around.

"I need to talk to you," she said. He walked with her down the hall and stopped to hear what she had to say.

"Yes, Garcia?"

"Claire can't go with her grandparents." He frowned.

"Why not?" he asked, quizzical. She rattled off the dates and facts about the family and in the end Hotch had a worried look on his face.

"Sir?" she said when he didn't speak.

"You're right. Claire can't go to live with them... But where will she go?"

...

Ryan was furious and to be honest, confused. The agents had found him so quickly it was hard to fathom. He was lucky to have escaped and that the woman hadn't had a gun. He walked briskly down the street, dodging in and out of allies. Surprisingly, his mind wasn't on Lily. It was on the two agents who had come into his home. When Ryan had tried to shoot the woman, the man had jumped in front of her, causing Ryan to shoot him. Ryan didn't think he had killed him, because the bullet had landed far enough away from his heart that if he got the ambulance right away, he would be fine. But Ryan didn't care if he had killed this agent or not. What he found himself caring about now, was the woman he had saved. The woman hadn't cared when he'd jumped out the window. She'd just knelt down to stop the bleeding. This infuriated Ryan. She didn't care if he got away, only about the fallen agent.

Ryan stepped on the main street and stopped a cab. He smiled to himself; he had a purpose again.

"Were to?" the driver asked.

"Um, the Behavioral Analysis Unit." The driver started the car. Ryan had read the newspapers and knew they were the ones working the case. If he had any chance of the finding that woman again, he needed to go there. He needed to see her dead to teach that agent, if he survived, that the most beautiful things in life can be taken away by the pull of a trigger.

...

It was the second time I'd been shot in a month and I can could truthfully say that when I woke up I had no idea what was going on. I didn't know if Garcia was hurt, if we'd gotten Ryan. All I knew was that my chest was throbbing. I was aware of the nurses and doctors coming in to check on me. I noticed when the team came in and talked to me; never once mentioning Ryan. Garcia was silent during the whole exchange. Not a good sign. When there was a halt in the conversation, I spoke.

"Did we get him?" No one moved.

"No, Morgan. We didn't," Prentiss said. I slammed my fist against the bed causing them to jump.

"Why not? We were right there! Right there!" I looked at Garcia. I knew it was unfair, but I had to blame someone. "Why didn't you shoot him when I dropped my gun? Why didn't you stop him from getting away?" She looked at me with shock and lowered her gaze.

"Morgan, that's..." JJ stopped speaking when Kevin entered the room. I was about to speak when Garcia rose and he led her into the hall. This only made me more confused. I strained my ears to hear their words, but they only got lost in the hallway due to busy employees.

...

"What is it, Kevin?" Garcia asked as soon as they were alone.

"Well..." he hesitated.

"Spit it out! Morgan almost died, Claire is going to Child Protective Services, and Ryan is still out there! It can't get any worse. Trust me." He waited a few more seconds.

"I found something. You're not going to like it."

...

"Where's Garcia?" Hotch asked when he entered the room.

"Kevin took her outside. He night have needed her at the BAU," I said with resent in my voice.

"Well, I just speak with you then. Can you give us a minute?" he asked the others. The nodded and left the room. "How are you feeling?" he said once they left.

"Fine. Better, I suppose," I told him. He looked at me sharply.

"Your actions should expel you from this team. You and Penelope were suspended from this investigation and you went directly against my orders."

"But Hotch-"

"You jeopardized this team with you impulsive decisions." I looked away from him. "However..." I raised my eyes to him. "You most likely saved Mrs. Whittman's life. I will reward you for this by letting you stay apart of this team. As well as Garcia. But if you ever disobey my orders again you should very well question if this is the place for you. But for now, it is." I smiled.

...

"What is it Kevin that you had to drag me down here for?" Garcia asked, frustrated. Kevin sat down and pressed a few keys, bringing up a page made for thefts in the BAU filed by Internal Affairs. "Why does it matter if the IA thinks an officer stole something?"

"Because of what they stole," he said. He scrolled down and clicked on the most recent theft. A police uniform and a squad car were stolen around four in the morning last night; supposedly by the same person.

"A uniform? Why would a police officer steal a uniform? They are given them," she asked, puzzled.

"And I checked out all the squad cars in use, and found they were running well and were fine for use. No one would need to steal a car that was an officer." She didn't respond, so he continued. " So, I did a little digging..." He opened up an events calendar. "There's an award ceremony tonight at eight. All officers that work at the BAU that don't have a case of highest priority are required to come in uniform. It will be held in the park, but they are meeting at the BAU beforehand to go over the night." Once again she did not speak, so pressed on. "Don't you get it yet?"

"No, not yet," she snapped. He sighed.

"I had my suspicions, but I checked the security footage outside the building to be sure." He pulled up that footage from three fifty-six last night. A cab drove up and a man stepped out. Garcia's mouth dropped and Kevin smiled. "Get it now?"

"Why would Ryan want to get into the BAU?" Garcia asked, still stricken from the Kevin's find. He rolled his eyes and she narrowed hers.

"Because he wants to get to us. Or more likely, to you and Morgan."

...

Garcia exited her office just as the team was arriving. A man walked over and started to speak with JJ. She grimaced and followed him to one of the waiting rooms. Garcia's eyes followed her and she looked through the glass windows to see what see thought were Claire's grandparents. To say that were angry was putting it lightly. Poor JJ. She was probably telling them they couldn't have custody of their granddaughter and Garcia couldn't say she felt sorry for them. She felt for Claire: she was the one who had to go to an orphanage. Her eyes searched for her, until they she saw her sitting outside the room studying her hands. When Garcia reached her, she sat down.

"Hey," she said softly. "How are you?" She didn't move. "Are you alright with this?"

"I guess," she said. She winced when she heard the grandmother yelling at JJ. "I wish I'd stayed. I shouldn't have left them there. I told myself if I came here, I could help you find them. Instead I left my mom and brothers alone with him and he killed them because I got away. It's all my fault." Garcia opened her mouth, but Claire spoke again. "It wasn't fair to blame him. I know it wasn't. He was only trying to make me feel better." Garcia knew the 'him' was Morgan and she realized he'd done the exact same thing to her at the hospital. "Would you tell him I'm sorry?"

"Sure, but I'm sure he's already forgiven you." The girl smiled.

"I wish I could stay with you," she whispered. Penelope smiled. She liked that idea.

...

When Garcia relayed what Kevin had discovered to the team, they didn't know what to say.

"What are we supposed to do then?" Rossi asked.

"We stake it out. This is actually a gift in disguise. He's coming to us!" Prentiss exclaimed.

"Not if he gets to us first," JJ said.

"Can't we cancel the ceremony?" Garcia asked.

"No, that's likely to cause mass panic," Reid said.

"Reid is right, we need to tell a few other guards, and go to the ceremony. Watch for him, he'll probably try to blend in with large crowds and keep his head low. We'll get him. Meanwhile, Garcia?" Hotch inquired. "I need you to go stay with Morgan and make sure he doesn't try to escape. He is staying in that hospital. I'll have someone come and replace you when the time comes. We'll need you watching the security cameras." She raised an eyebrow.

"So... I'm back on the case?" she asked daringly. He smiled.

"As long as you don't tell Agent Greene," he said and he placed her badge on the table.

...

Garcia arrived at the hospital at six, walking briskly up the cement steps. She didn't know what to think when she entered my room. I shut my lids before she could see I was awake. She breathed when she saw I was asleep and I could tell she prayed I wouldn't wake up for a while. But as soon as she sat down my eyes opened.

"Hey," he said. "Why are you here?" I winced, that probably sounded rude. Her composure changed instantly.

"Hotch told me to come make sure you didn't try to leave," she said. So, she was upset from my snap at her this morning. She should have been, but like a fool, I had hoped she wasn't. She didn't say anything for a moment.

"I'm sorry about this morning." Still she didn't move. "I shouldn't have blamed you for it. It was wrong and it's not your fault he got away. It's your fault that I'm alive today."

"You made me feel like it was the wrong decision to save your life. Would you rather I'd gotten him instead of helping you?" I shook my head. "Because I would rather not have you die when if I can help it. In that case, I could." She stopped talking when she realized she was yelling and had stood up. She sat back down.

"I'm sorry," I told her sincerely. I finally made eye contact with her saw she was crying.

"If he hurts the team it _is_ my fault. If I'd just..."

"What?" I screeched. She snapped her eyes to mine and I could see her mentally cursing herself.

"Are the others in danger?"

"Not _immediate _danger. Just... Potential danger," she said quietly. I waited for her to explain and once she had, I wished she hadn't.

...

Ryan watched Garcia exit Agent Morgan's room just after seven. He heard him protest and tell her to take him with her, but she laughed and said no way. He was careful to stay out of sight and he pulled his uniform hat over his face. He stepped aside when an older gentlemen replaced Garcia. She kissed the agent goodbye and left the room. Normally Ryan wouldn't risk getting caught like this, but he knew there was a chance he wouldn't get out of the BAU alive and he needed to see the fear and Derek Morgan's face when he told him he was going to kill Agent Garcia. Ten minutes later the replacement left the room and he seized his chance. He walked over to the front desk and asked if he could visit Morgan. She didn't even hesitate when she saw his uniform and she told him no one would disturb them. Ryan turned the door knob and stepped inside.

...

When I heard the door open and shut, I didn't even bother to open my eyes. But when I heard the click of the lock they flew open. A man in a uniform was standing over my bed and pressed his hands over my arms. I started to shout, but he spoke before I could.

"Agent Morgan. I knew when I fired that bullet at you, you could have survived, but I didn't think you would be this better already." I knew that voice and once again started to scream, but he put pressure on my wound and it was all I could do to keep from crying. "Listen to me. Tonight, I will finally show you that the most beautiful things in life, don't last forever." It didn't take long for me to understand and I squirmed under his strong grip. "Tonight, she dies and you'll wish you did too." I brought my knee up and hit him in the stomach, causing him to grunt and loosen his grip. I tried to scream, but he took out a roll of silver tape and put it to my mouth. My arms felt heavy and I tried to bring them up to get it off my face, but by the time they were halfway there, he had leapt from my window and was down the emergency stairs. When I finally got it off, I didn't scream. I only thought of Garcia. I unhooked the IV and untangled myself from the cords. I took one painful step and then another towards the window. Then I started my excruciating decent towards the street below.

...

By the time seven-thirty rolled around the entire staff was in the BAU conference room. Prentiss, Rossi, Reid, and Hotch all watched the officers. Never once seeing Ryan. Garcia and JJ stared hawk-eyed at their monitors, but still nothing. It would have been nice to have Kevin there to help, but Garcia was back so he had been removed from the case. Ryan had slipped in right on time, but he didn't come unprepared. He'd purchased a bald cap, a face nose, and colored contacts for the occasion. Anyone who saw him wouldn't know who he was unless they were comparing him to a picture. A few times Garcia had sworn she'd seen him, but it turned out to be someone who looked nothing like Ryan. Ten minutes in, an officer came to talk to Reid, giving the young agent a new weapon, as Morgan had left his gun at the foster home. He was joyful, left the room and sat down next to Claire to put the bullets in. It was then that Garcia thought she saw him again. She was about to call Hotch when she saw it wasn't him. She sighed. This was going to be a long night.

...

Two seconds before Garcia almost made the call to Agent Hotchner, Ryan slipped out of the room. He walked out into the main room, but was stopped by an unsuspecting Reid. He set down his gun and stood up.

"Excuse me, do you know think you could tell me when the meeting will be over?" he asked politely. Hotch had asked that he wait outside the door in case they could catch him before he left.

"Um, I'm afraid I don't. Sorry," he told him. Reid nodded.

"That's fine. I'll ask Garcia." He turned and walked down the hallway, Ryan trailing behind him.

...

"Garcia, that man left the room!" JJ said. Garcia's eyes scanned the glass doors, but could see no one in the lobby. "I'm going out there," JJ said as Reid entered.

"Garcia, when do you think-"

"Reid, look out!" JJ shouted as she pulled out her gun. Ryan pulled out his and trained it on JJ. Ryan came from behind and bumped into him. Ryan grabbed him around the middle and pressed his weapon to his head.

"Drop your weapon," he told JJ. "Now." She waited, but when he cocked the gun she dropped it to the floor and kicked it away. Ryan grabbed it with his foot, knelt and picked it up. He then took out the bullets and put them in his pocket. Then he through the gun in the garbage. "Both of you, should consider yourselves lucky. You get to witness what I am about to do. You get to see your friend die.

...

By the time I'd arrived at the BAU, I had begun to panic. I opened the doors and took the elevator up to our floor. When I arrived, I saw Claire sitting in a chair, staring at something. Deep in thought. Next to her was a gun. A smile played on my lips.

...

There was a crash from Garcia's office and Claire's head rose, eyes alert. She then noticed the man sitting next to her hadn't come back. A frown became etched into her brow.

...

I was still a hundred feet away from Garcia's office and fifty away from the conference room. My chest had started to bleed freely. I must have ripped the stitches. I needed to move faster. _She's going to die if you don't get there in time._ Just this once I wished I wasn't right.

...

"Where's your precious Morgan now?" he sneered to them.

"Please. Don't hurt her. I'll make sure you get out of here. I promise. Just let her go," JJ pleaded with him.

"I'm sorry, that just won't do," he told her. "Now, I've decided you can stay and watch. I suppose the more people that see my masterpiece, the better." He lunged for Garcia, knocked her against the wall and began to squeeze his trigger when he stopped mid-attack. A loud crack could be heard throughout the building and Ryan fell to the floor; a trickle of blood escaped down his face.

...

The sound of the bullet caused me to forget my pain and start to run.

"Garcia!" I screamed. The door to the conference room opened and Hotch ran out, followed by Rossi. Hotch locked eyes with me and took in my blood soaked shirt. His eyes didn't show fury, only concern. Rossi met me near her office and helped me the rest of the way. When we reached them, I was hit with yet another surprise. For the person holding the gun wasn't JJ or Reid, it wasn't even Garcia.

It was Claire.

**A/N: So, this chapter took ridiculously long. I kept messing up with all the people in different places and... Yeah. I hope you liked it! Please R AND R!**


	16. Epilogue

Epilogue

Claire and Penelope Morgan

_12 Months Later_

**Disclaimer:** **I don't own criminal minds or the fabulous characters, just the plot. *sigh* **

**A/N: This IS the last chapter. Hope you like it! **

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I asked Penelope as we walked closer to the building looming above us. She scoffed.

"Are _you _sure this is what _you_ want?" she countered. A huge smile stretched across my face.

"I'm insulted you'd ask such a question," I said playfully. She smiled, but her eyes dropped to her hands. I watched her fidget with the ring on her finger, twisting it carefully on the place it had rested for three months. "You better not be thinking of giving that back to me..." Her eyes met mine again, alarm showing on all regions of her face. Then she saw me laughing and calmed herself.

"Of course not! Marrying you is the one thing I'm sure I did right." We were drawing dangerously close to the brick steps and Garcia returned to her wedding ring. When she finally looked up, we were at the door and she gulped.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," I started. We'd had this conversation so many times and she'd always shot me down; I knew she wanted to.

"No! I'm just... I'm just nervous because... Well, to be honest... I'm scared she won't want to go with us," she said softly.

"Penelope Garcia Morgan! She will be grateful to get out of this place. I promise." I paused to step out of the way of the door that we were now blocking, as a young woman ventured through the great doors. She sighed.

"Fine then. I'm ready." I opened the door.

Stony Bridge Orphanage was not like the one you would see in movies. When you entered you saw a large waiting area filled with comfortable couches and a desk in the middle. An old woman was speaking behind the desk to the woman politely. Beyond the desk was a long hallway and on each side of the hallway were five doors, probably leading to other rooms. JJ had sworn she would find the nicest place for her and it looked like she had. I reminded myself to thank her again later. Garcia took my hand and we walked up to the desk.

"Now, I'm sorry dear, but there is no one by the name of James Lempke here," the woman behind the desk told the frantic mother. She was crying and pleading for her to check again. Her thin hair was frizzing around her face and her watery blue eyes were wide.

"Please! He's here, he is! He's... He's... Check again!" she screamed and slammed her small fist on the counter. The old woman made a hand gesture and the guards by the door came and ushered her out. Garcia stood frozen, watching this exchange and I wondered if she actually _had _changed her mind.

"I'm terribly sorry. She's been coming by every day for the last week asking for the same little boy. I'm so sorry you had to see that. Now..." She paused, taking us in and smiled warmly. "How can I help you?" This was the part I was nervous about. JJ had said it was a small orphanage. She could be gone. I glanced at Garcia and saw her still frozen so I spoke quickly.

"Yes, we are looking for Claire Turner." I held my breath as I waited for her to tell us she wasn't here. I waited for her to searched in her computer for her as well and come up empty. But she only chuckled and turned to Garcia.

"So. You must be Penelope."

...

Her comment shocked me and we both frowned at her statement. Before we could respond however, she spoke.

"Follow me, children." She made another signal to the guards and one of them walked over to us to replace the woman behind the desk. "I'll only be gone a few minutes, Hoover." The woman must have been standing on a stool, because she couldn't have been more than four feet tall. Garcia and I towered over her and we both bit our tongues. She took us down the hallway and stopped at the second door on the right. She knocked on the door twice and you could hear an audible gasp come from inside. Then hushed whispers.

"Who's it gonna be?"

"My bet's on Melissa."

"What if it's my mom!" Then one loud voice.

"Quiet now. Settle down, or it won't be any of you," a man shouted. Then one more voice spoke before we opened the door.

"W e know one thing. It won't be _her._" Garcia frowned and I wondered who 'her' was, but before we could ask the door swung open. As we stepped into view, there was a small squeak from the corner of the classroom. The walls were lined with paintings and projects and the desks were arranged in rows of ten. A fit man stood at the head of the classroom by the whiteboard. His hair was neat and clean, like the rest of him and he reminded me of my old geography teacher.

"Ms. Helda, if you will, try to be as speedy as possible. If you will, I have a class to teach, if you will," he said hurriedly. Who says 'if you will' three times in one statement?

"Of course, Bernard. Claire?" Helda called out. A frumpy girl with two blonde, lopsided ponytails stood up gleefully. Her uniform was crinkled and her pudgy face was covered in freckles; her smile so large I winced. This was not Claire. Helda turned to us. "This is the child, isn't it?"

"No, I'm sorry. It isn't," Garcia said, he voice nothing but a whisper. She turned to me and put her face in my chest. "She's gone." I wrapped my arms around her and tried to contain my own unhappiness.

"Ms. Helda, we said Claire Turner. If she is no longer here, we will be leaving now," I said gruffly. I felt Garcia squeeze me tighter. Before we could leave the room or Helda could speak. A beautiful girl in a crisp uniform rose. She was seated near the back and seemed to be isolated from the other children.

"I'm Claire Turner." My focus snapped to hers and I breathed a sigh of sweet relief. Garcia didn't wait for that, she just ran towards her. I almost told her to be careful, an old habit after her injuries. She reached Claire and picked her up, holding her close. "I knew you'd come," she said to quietly I might have imagined it.

"Wait. _Her_?" several people asked.

"Why do you want _that one_ and not us?" another chorus of people shouted. Claire blushed and turned away from us. But I was past that. I felt rage.

"I heard her parents were alcoholics."

"_I _heard that killed themselves."

"Does it matter? They're dead!" This earned a round of laughter from the kids. I was about to yell that these ungrateful children when Claire's yell halted my own.

"YES IT DOES." No one in the room moved and I was shocked. "My parents were NOT alcohol abusers! My father was MURDERED because the sick son of a bitch was JEALOUS of him."

"Claire! Language, if you will!" Bernard told her. She ignored him.

"My mother and brothers and myself WERE KIDNAPPED. They were BRUTALLY KILLED BY THAT MAN. BECAUSE OF ME. You don't know what the hell you are talking about. I bet NONE of you have had that happen to you. NONE. I bet YOU GUYS are the ones with unfit parents that use drugs. You can tease each other about that, but not me. You know why? Because I'm leaving WITH THEM. The people that caught the killer." She pointed to us and I still couldn't move. She took my hand and Garcia and walked with us towards the door.

"I still think she's all talk," one final child mumbled. "She wouldn't have the guts to hurt us if she wanted to." I saw the anger boil up inside her again, but I met her eyes and winked. She frowned but didn't move. I turned and walked over to the puckish boy.

"The man that killed her family isn't in jail," I told him. He laughed.

"See! You guys aren't as good as you think you are. Is that supposed to scare me!" he said. Cocky little... I darkened my eyes and I could feel him lean away from me.

"No," I said simply. He laughed again. I put my hands on his desk. "He's not in jail because..." I leaned closer to him, making him sweat. "Because Claire shot him in the face." The room gasped. I turned away from him and took Claire's hand in my own, as well as Garcia's, and walked out of the room.

...

Before we left and after we had legally adopted Claire, I told Garcia to catch up with Claire on the chairs across the room from the desk. I wanted to have a little chat with Ms. Helda. She was sipping her coffee and reading the newspaper. I waited until she looked up.

"Oh! Mr. Morgan. Can I help you?" she asked, completely unaware.

"Do you have anything to say about what happened in that classroom?" She frowned.

"Yes. Yes I do. I think you were too hard on Jeffery. He doesn't know any better yet." I slammed my hands on the counter, making her spill some of her coffee.

"If that is the amount of bullying that Claire received that this school for one whole year, I am ashamed and disgusted by the adult supervision. I was told this was the best orphanage in the state."

"It is!" she exclaimed.

"No. No it isn't. You will not receive very must business the next few months Helda. I swear to you." Those were my last words to Ms. Helda.

...

When we exited the orphanage, Claire hugged us.

"Thank you so so so so much."

"You're welcome," we said in unison. After that Garcia asked her many questions and finally Claire just told us everything. While Claire was still talking, Garcia took her hand in mine and met my eyes. They were filled with tears of joy and wonder. Claire stopped speaking to watch our exchange and smiled when Garcia put her head on my forehead, leaning in to me.

"I love you," she said. "Thank you for this." My lips touched hers and I reminded myself of how lucky I was, for the hundredth time that day. When we continued walking down the street, all I could see was my family. It was as if a light shown from them, surrounding their forms. I couldn't believe what I had, and I knew I would never let it go. As long as I lived.

**A/N: It's finally over! I can't thank you enough for all the reviews and support that I've received while writing this story. I would LOVE to thank:**

**lilylovesyouso**

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**The people above are people that have reviewed my story and have helped me along the way. HOWEVER. I have a very special thank you soooooooo much to:**

**csifreak1234**

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**These are the people that inspired me and were with me the whole way. That's all I really have to say, I have no idea when I will come up with another story, but if I do it will most likely be a sequel to this one. THANKS SO MUCH AGAIN. **

**-Rachel (boneslovva) 3**


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